


That which is mine to give.

by churchofyourcurves



Series: Of sensible hearts and dangerous minds. [4]
Category: Carmilla (Web Series)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Harry Potter Setting, Alternate Universe - Hogwarts, F/F, F/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-07-14
Updated: 2016-10-09
Packaged: 2018-04-09 03:04:26
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 11
Words: 34,827
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4331355
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/churchofyourcurves/pseuds/churchofyourcurves
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Carmilla HP AU. Set 7 years after ‘Somewhere I have never travelled, gladly beyond’.</p>
<p>Laura Hollis is getting married!</p>
<p>And between reconnecting with the rest of the gang, organising a wedding, and being the research monkey for the Daily Prophet, she definitely does not have time to deal with revenge plots, break ins, or rescue plans.</p>
<p>So it’s a good thing that she’s got Carmilla.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. The Prologue

The courtroom was silent as the judge cleared her throat and examined the ledger in front of her. Her eyes were lined with bags, and she looked utterly disinterested in the proceedings. She hadn’t always been like this - when she’d started six years ago she had been excited to make a difference, to help with the reimagined criminal system, but it hadn’t taken her very long to realise that she was just a figurehead.

She had loved this room once - the high ceilings, wooden panelled walls, mahogany furniture.

Now it just felt oppressive.

“Prisoner WL-0578, step forward please.”

The prisoner stepped forward from the line of other prisoners, his eyes fixed to the ground. His hair was bedraggled, beard grown out so that it went halfway down his chest. She resisted the urge to sneer at his appearance - prison conditions in Azkaban may not be the best due to overcrowding, but they were surely better than this. It seemed like he had purposefully cultivated this image.

“After careful review of your case, we’ve decided to grant you early release. You will be put on probation for the next five years. If you break the conditions of your good behaviour bond you will be retried. Do you understand?”

Without lifting his head the prisoner replied in a rough voice, “Yes.”

The judge nodded, made a note on the ledger, and gestured for the bailiff to remove him from the courtroom. She watched the bailiff grab the prisoner by the elbow and pull him forward, leading him out of the courtroom and into the adjoining smaller room. She wondered how long it would take for him to become a re-offender.

Well, it wasn’t any of her business now.

She turned the page on her ledger. “Prisoner RK-0561, step forward please.”


	2. The Orrery

“Babe, have you seen my keys?” Laura called out as she shuffled aside a stack of letters on the bench. “I’m going to be late,” she muttered to herself.

“Did you check the hook?”

“Did I check the hook?” Laura echoed disbelievingly. “Of course I checked the hook!” Laura then went over to check the hook and saw her keys hanging there. She grimaced and very, very carefully took her keys off the hook so that they didn’t make any sound coming off. “Nevermind, I found them!”

She turned around and saw Carmilla leaning against the doorway leading off the kitchen, eyebrow cocked in the way that was super attractive but also super frustrating. “You never check the hook.”

“I swear we have pixies,” Laura said as she gathered her bag off the table.

Carmilla smiled bemusedly. “Whatever you say, cupcake.”

Laura dashed over to kiss Carmilla quickly on the lips and then darted back towards the kitchen door that led outside. “I have to work late today, but I’ll see you at dinner?”

“You better.”

“I promise!” Laura called out over her shoulder before leaving the cottage and shutting the door behind her. Carmilla waited for a moment, just in case Laura had forgotten something, and then she went over to the drawers and opened the bottom one, which was full of paperwork that was supposedly important but that neither of them had looked at since putting in there. She moved the papers aside and brought something out of the drawer. Sitting down at the kitchen table she placed the small box in front of her and opened it, staring it down.

She breathed in deep and let the breath back out as she closed her eyes.

She could do this. She could do this.

\---

LaFontaine juggled their bag from one hand to the other as they unlocked the front door to the office and shouldered their way inside. They’d made a deal with Danny that they would come in early and open up the office if they could leave early - except they both knew that LaFontaine would refuse to leave until Danny did, even if all they were doing was bringing her snacks. She’d been looking more and more run down lately, and honestly they didn’t mind the extra hours if they could help her out.

Wasn’t like they had much to go home to anyway.

They dropped their bag off at their desk, opened up the window that the owls usually came through, and started the self-brewing coffee percolator. While they were waiting for the coffee the first owl of the day flew in with the morning paper. They paid the owl (plus a treat as a tip - it helped keep the newspaper in good condition), sat down on the worn couch next to the shelf that the coffee percolator was on top of, and opened it up, scanning the bylines for Laura Hollis.

They hadn’t seen Laura in almost half a year since their birthday, they were both working so much that it was difficult to line up their schedules, but LaF still did this every day. Laura had moved to the Daily Prophet last year after the Quibbler had almost gone bankrupt and been bought out. The new owners had taken the Quibbler in a completely different direction, turning it into a gossip magazine.

So far they hadn’t spotted any of her articles, but they were sure that it would happen one day. Granted, Laura would probably send clippings to everyone, but LaF wasn’t even sure if they would be on that list anymore.

Not that Laura didn’t still care for them, they just... weren’t really at the forefront of each others lives anymore.

It was easier with the others; working with Danny meant LaFontaine saw her every weekday and sometimes weekends, Kirsch would often visit the office, and Perry worked in the Ministry with Kirsch.

Carmilla and Laura were in different circles from the rest of them, and it sucked majorly but that was kind of just how it was since they’d left Hogwarts seven years ago. So much had happened since then, everything felt so different now.

A figure appeared at the frosted glass of the front door, drawing LaF’s attention from the paper. LaFontaine frowned, Danny would usually storm in, heading straight for the percolator. Maybe it was a client, but they were just standing there.

Just as LaFontaine was about to stand up to open the door the person walked away.

The percolator finished and they poured themselves a cup of coffee as they returned their focus to the newspaper. They had a running competition going with Danny as to who could solve the daily word puzzle first, and they refused to lose to a Gryffindor.

\---

Perry walked into the meeting room with the rest of the people from her team. The team had been formed three years ago, a division of the IMC dedicated to creating an education standard to apply internationally, making it easier for young wizards and witches who wished to travel after completing their studies.

Perry had jumped at the chance to be a part of the team, eager to finally feel like she was contributing to something meaningful - something that wasn’t just filing and denying requests. Unfortunately, the team hadn’t gotten very far in achieving much of anything so far. Most countries declared that their testing system was superior and refused to agree to any alterations, so the job had quickly turned into a tug-of-war between the different countries depending on their bargaining weight.

“Where are we with Eastern Europe?” Emily - her team leader - asked from the front of the meeting room.

Next to Perry, Alex tapped the end of his pen on the desk. “Do you want the bad news or the worse news?”

Her team leader sighed. “What do they want?”

“They refuse to give up their gauntlet.”

“Are you-?” She pinched the bridge of her nose. “We’re not making 17 year olds run a gauntlet to graduate.”

“To be fair, it’s no more barbaric than the Triwizard Tournament.”

“There was a reason that was discontinued after 1792.”

“Well there was 1994,” Alex offered.

“Which ended in someone dying,” Wendy reminded him. “What else do they want?”

“Uh...” He tapped his pen on his page. “Extra points for their students.”

“Extra points,” Wendy echoed disbelievingly. “And why do they think that they deserve extra points?”

“They’re saying that their schools don’t have the same funding as others do.”

Wendy looked up to the ceiling. “Merlin give me strength.”

“I was thinking maybe having a gauntlet as an optional course, and doing a financial analysis on the schools?” Alex suggested.

“Good idea with the gauntlet, as for the financial analysis - do it but before you show any of the schools come to me first.”

“Sure thing.” He pressed the nib of his pen to the paper and the ink flowed out from the tip across the page, arranging into words.

“Perry, how are the Pacific Islands?”

Perry cleared her throat and leaned forward on her seat. “Good, actually.” She glanced down at her page. “They’ve agreed to take on the new curriculum, the only concern they have is with how much information the students have to take in within such a short time period. They have more of a hands on learning style, so...”

“Tell them they can come back with a proposal and we’ll assess.”

Perry nodded, pressing her nib to the page and watching the words form. The meeting continued but her mind was elsewhere as she stared down at the page in front of her and made the ink dance along the margin.

\---

Kirsch greeted Perry with a hug in front of the fountain at the atrium. “Hey P, how’s your day going?”

“Oh, you know, education reform...” She shrugged. “How’s the Sports department?”

He shoved his hands into his pockets and echoed her shrug as they started walking towards the fireplaces. “Ming started a pool on when her baby’s gonna be born.”

“What did you guess?”

“A week before the due date.” He side-eyed her and grinned. “That little guy’s so active he’s totally bursting to get out early.”

Perry smiled to herself, Kirsch was an absolute sucker when it came to babies, hearing him gush about them was probably one of her favourite things.

“Where should we go for lunch?” she asked.

“Up to you, but there _is_ this new place that opened up on the surface that’s meant to be super good,” he said with a singing lilt to his voice.

“Do you want to go there?”

He grinned back at her.

Twenty minutes later, Perry was staring down at one of the biggest burgers she’d ever seen in her life, while Kirsch was happily biting into it. It looked like he was dislocating his jaw to get his mouth around the thing, but he was managing quite gleefully.

She tried to use her knife and fork to cut a piece of the burger off but only managed to make all the ingredients slide out from the bun. She settled for the massive chips instead.

“I swear, non-magical food is just getting bigger and bigger.”

Kirsch offered the most of a smile that he could while his cheeks were packed with food. He quickly chewed and swallowed. “I know, it’s so great right?”

Perry hummed, stabbing another chip with her fork.

He picked up on her somewhat lacklustre response and frowned. “I’m sorry, do you not like it? Sorry for taking you here, dude.”

“No, no.” Perry sighed. “It’s not that.”

He put down his burger - something that he’d told her went against the first cardinal rule of eating a burger - and leaned forward on his elbows. “Are you okay?”

She almost said yes but caught herself instead, opting for the truth. If she could tell anyone the truth it was Kirsch. “It’s just... is this all there is? I’m 25 years old and it just feels like things were meant to be more than this. I mean, we’re ma-” Perry glanced around the crowded pub before leaning in and whispering, “Magical. I just didn’t think I’d end up feeling so...”

“Ordinary?” he offered.

She looked at the other people eating lunch, caught up in their own worlds. She wondered if they felt the same way that she did. “Yes.”

“Hey, if you want to move out to the country and open up a farm for magical creatures, I’m totally down. Just let me know and we’re gone.”

Perry laughed softly. “I don’t think I’m cut out for that.”

“Hey, you’re Lola Perry. You raised a Thestral. You broke into the Ministry, and Azkaban, and then the Ministry again, and then you got us all into an alternate dimension.” He winked at her. “You would have the most boss magical creatures farm ever.”

Perry blushed and looked down at her plate of food.

“Plus, now you’re like changing the face of education, which means you’re gonna be in charge of all the future generations and how they turn out. That’s pretty metal, dude.”

“Thank you, Kirsch.”

“Any time, P.”

Perry's pocket chirped and she reached into it, taking out a folded piece of parchment and opening it up. She read the message on it and sighed. “I have to go back into the office.” She got up and gave Kirsch a quick kiss on the cheek. “Thank you for lunch. Are you going to be at the PI office later?”

“Totally dude, Danny’s working some hectic case and I’m taking them dinner.”

“Save me some?”

“You know it.”

\---

Carmilla was pacing in the entrance by the time Laura got home, checking the inside pocket of her jacket every so often.

Laura burst through the door. “I’m sorry, I’m sorry, give me like two seconds okay?” She pecked Carmilla on the lips on her way to their bedroom, yanking off her clothes as she went.

“If you’re too tired we can stay home,” Carmilla offered as she followed Laura.

“Don’t be silly.” Laura’s head poked out of the walk-in closet. “I’m super excited for dinner, I just got held up doing some research.”

“Alright.” Carmilla took a seat on the bed, feeling weird for having gotten ready half an hour ago.

Laura burst out of the closet wearing a gorgeous red dress, pulling on her high heels and checking her hair in the mirror. After a hair flip she gave Carmilla a look over her shoulder, pouting exaggeratedly. “What do you think?”

“You look beautiful, cupcake.”

Laura beamed and offered Carmilla her elbow. “Shall we?”

\---

Carmilla had been fairly quiet all through dinner. She had been reacting and offering replies, but she didn’t seem like she was actually listening. She didn’t make any effort to start a conversation topic, even when the couple next to them ordered some deconstructed meal that hovered over the plate in tiers. Part of the reason they both liked the Orrery was that it had such ridiculous meals on the menu, and they liked playing the game of spot the most pretentious person in the room. Laura had tried to bait her into one, but Carmilla had pointed out the man in the corner who had been sniffing his wine for the past hour and won immediately.

Eventually Laura let the meal sink into silence, doing her best to enjoy the food and staring up at the ceiling. The ceiling was the other reason they came to the Orrery despite the crowd and the prices; the ceiling was a large curved glass dome that showed the night sky, with stars and planets that were millions of light years away looking like they were just outside.

Laura wasn’t sure if it was her fault for being late, or if Carmilla was just in one of her moods, but she didn’t push it. Her eyes followed the rings of Saturn as she sipped her champagne (something Carmilla had ordered without offering any reason). The waiter came over to ask them if they wanted dessert and before Laura could answer Carmilla interrupted and asked for the bill instead.

The waiter looked as surprised as Laura felt (did they come here that often?) as she sank back down into her seat. She was really trying not to show how disappointed she was, but it was dead obvious.

“I thought we could go to that ice cream place,” Carmilla said as she paid the bill.

Laura brightened immediately; it was one of her favourite dessert places. Carmilla had hired the whole store for Laura’s 23rd birthday last year, which Laura had gotten exceptionally drunk at. It was actually kind of a miracle that they were still allowed in the store, but Carmilla tended to be liberal with her spending.

Carmilla grabbed what was left of their ludicrously expensive champagne, took Laura’s hand and led her out of the restaurant onto Somnium Avenue.

With the influx of non-magical born in the past ten years there was a rising demand and Somnium Avenue was one of the areas that had been created to accommodate for it. The avenue had sprung up six years ago, and had quickly become one of the most expensive strips in magical society. Along the avenue were bars, restaurants, boutiques, and clubs frequented by young, well-off, sometimes famous wizards and witches.

Music and loud conversation poured out onto the street from all the open bar fronts. The weather modifying charms meant it was perfect weather constantly, regardless of the time of year, so most bars had an open plan to take advantage of it. There were rumours that the most exclusive club on the strip - Utopia - had an amazing open rooftop area with a pool. Not that Carmilla and Laura had ever gone. On top of Carmilla’s general disdain for clubs, you needed a golden key to enter and you could only be given one by another key holder.

So, Somnium Avenue was in no short supply of pretentious people. On weekdays it was usually better, with less drunken people wandering around, which was why Laura was surprised that Carmilla suggested dinner on a Friday night. But there had been something in Carmilla’s tone that had implied that it was important, so Laura had agreed.

Carmilla was lost in her own world as they walked down the avenue, staring blankly ahead and holding Laura’s hand loosely.

Laura was starting to get worried. Not like worried worried, because Carm wouldn’t take her to a fancy dinner to break up with her, that wasn’t her style. Unless she did it because she was guilty. Maybe something had happened, maybe she-

No. Laura stopped her train of thought right there. She couldn’t think about things like that.

Carmilla tugged her into Baker’s Ice Cream Parlour, and Laura welcomed the distraction. The Parlour was run by a non-magical born who had done the place up in a 50s theme. It was a novelty for those who recognised the checkered floors, vibrant red vinyl cushioning and baby blue colour scheme; and it was an entertaining innovation for those who had grown up in the magical community.

Laura and Carmilla took a seat at the counter - there were no tables on a Friday night, they had been cleared aside for the dance floor. The upbeat music was already blaring, although it was still too early and the dance floor was empty. Laura ordered her usual - triple decker cookie fudge supreme - and Carmilla passed.

“Are you sure you don’t want a milkshake or something?” Laura asked as the waitress went to relay the order to the kitchen.

Carmilla shook her head. “I’m not feeling it.”

“We didn’t have to come here,” Laura said in a small voice.

Carmilla seemed to snap out of her weird numbness to realise that Laura was upset and she gave her a grimace of a smile. “No, no. I want you to... I’m just not hungry.”

“Okay.”

“I’m sorry,” Carmilla apologised quickly. “I’ve been- it’s been... I’m here.” She put a hand on Laura’s knee and gave her the most comforting smile that she could.

It reassured Laura, although not enough to stop her stomach from turning uncomfortably.

“What are you going to do about the sub-editor?” Carmilla asked, showing that she actually had been listening earlier and Laura felt guilty for thinking otherwise. But then her ice cream arrived and she shoved down the guilt with a healthy spoonful of ice cream, fudge, and cookie while she started to present Carmilla with her ideas on how to deal with her nightmare of a sub-editor.

Slowly, Carm started to draw out of her mood, laughing and smiling, and even endorsing Laura’s plan to hex his coffee. By the time Laura had demolished her ice cream things seemed like they were back to normal again, and Laura’s heart felt lighter.

They escaped the growing bustle of Somnium Avenue and apparated in the Dean forest. Carmilla had set up a network of orbs around the forest that sensed whenever they were nearby and start glowing gently. She’d had trouble with trying to make them stay off when she was in Animagus form, but she’d turned it into a game where she’d have to climb the trees to tap them with her paw to manually turn them off.

They walked through the forest, bathed in the soft, rainbow glow, trading the champagne bottle back and forth as they talked about the new books that Carmilla had ordered from Flourish and Blotts.

By the time they got back home Laura’s worries had completely gone from her mind. When Carmilla put the empty bottle on the kitchen table Laura tugged on her hand, drawing her attention up to Laura’s face. Laura smiled, gentle but suggestive, and Carmilla smirked in response, letting Laura pull her in close.

Laura looked up at her for a moment with wide eyes, almost touching but not quite. Carmilla stayed her ground, watching Laura and waiting for her. Happy with Carmilla’s patience, Laura leaned up and kissed her chastely. Her eyes were still open, as were Carmilla’s, and they maintained eye contact until Laura deepened the kiss, her other hand coming up to the back of Carmilla’s neck. She scratched lightly at the skin and felt Carmilla sigh into her mouth.

Her other hand dropped Carmilla’s and she reached up to grab her by her shirt and pull her with her as she walked backwards towards the counter. Getting the message, Carmilla followed and her hands went to the hem of Laura’s dress, hiking it up, and grabbing the elastic of her stockings and pulling them down. She continued to kiss Laura - hot, passionate kisses that left Laura breathless.

Laura’s back hit the counter and her hands dropped down to the edge, palming it and wondering if she should hop onto it. Her question was answered a moment later when Carmilla pulled down her stockings completely, letting her step out of them, and on her way back up Laura’s legs she picked her up. Laura let out a short squeak, grabbing onto Carmilla’s shoulders to steady herself and Carmilla held her there for a moment, enjoying the closeness, before setting her down on the counter. She kissed Laura again, slowly.

Then she dropped to her knees.

Two hours later they finally made it to bed, collapsing into it, facing each other with matching tired smiles.

“Laura?”

Laura shifted on her pillow, her eyes still closed and her expression peaceful. “Mm?”

“Marry me?”

Laura’s eyes blinked open.

Carmilla stayed silent as she waited for an answer, her face calm with patience.

Laura searched Carmilla’s face, but for what she wasn’t sure. She took in the sight of the woman that she loved, hair askew, skin damp with sweat, eyes gentle. “Okay,” she replied in a quiet voice.

“Okay?” Carmilla’s face was so hopeful that it made Laura’s chest squeeze.

She nodded and bit back her smile. “Okay.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you want to get any extras about this story then follow me on tumblr at [churchofyourcurves](churchofyourcurves.tumblr.com) or check out the tag #carmilla hp au
> 
> I also have some behind the scenes shorts of stuff that I didn't put into the main story for whatever reason, as well as prompts that people have sent me. Check them out [here](http://churchofyourcurves.tumblr.com/tagged/carmilla-hp-au-bts) or take a look at the tag #carmilla hp au bts
> 
> I try to get updates up every Tuesday and Friday (AEST)


	3. The Dinner

**6 months, 28 days**

“Babe, can you make me a cup of coffee?” Laura asked from the bathroom.

Carmilla let herself have an extra moment lying in bed before rolling out of it listlessly. She grabbed a dressing gown off the chair next to the door, wrapping it around herself as she walked towards the kitchen. The floorboards were heated with a warming charm, making the mornings more bearable than usual, but still not perfect. Maybe she could try to tweak the charms.

She walked into the kitchen and froze.

“Laura?” she called out towards the bathroom without moving an inch. “What the hell?”

The shower turned off and Laura slipped on her own plush robe, wrapping her hair up in her towel and piling it on top of her head while walking through their bedroom, into the hallway behind Carmilla. She peered past her shoulder and let out a small ‘oh’.

Carmilla did her best to give her a look out of the corner of her eye without moving. “Oh? Really? Oh?”

Laura grimaced as she looked at all the owls that were currently in their kitchen, camped out on pretty much every available surface.

“They came early.” Laura edged past Carmilla into the kitchen, putting herself between Carmilla and the owls and giving her the most charming smile she could. “I’m telling everyone that we got engaged.”

Carmilla softened, but she still eyed the owls distrustfully. “Why are you even using owls? Can’t you send out a pMessage?” she asked, referring to the magical piece of parchment that could send out an instant message to anyone else who owned one.

“I want to make it personal, you know?” Laura laced her fingers between Carmilla’s, looking up at her with wide eyes.

Carmilla growled, rolling her eyes. “ _Fine_. But I’m not going in there.” She jabbed her finger roughly at the closest owl, who hooted back at her.

Carmilla stomped back to their bedroom and Laura called out after her, “I love you!”

“You too!” Carmilla replied, her voice still clipped with annoyance.

Laura turned back to the owls in the kitchen. “I’m sorry, she has a weird thing about flying animals, but she’s super nice I promise!” The owls blinked back at her. “And now I’m talking to owls. That’s...” Laura shook her head and went about making herself a coffee so she could start writing all the letters to let people know that she and Carmilla had gotten engaged.

As the coffee was brewing she looked down at the engagement ring Carmilla had given her last night. She’d fetched it from her jacket with a grimace, admitting that she was originally planning to propose at the Orrery, but she’d realised that it wasn’t right, and decided to leave it to another time.

Until they were lying in bed together, tired and happy and she knew that there was no better time than this - in their bed, in their house, naked.

They had both agreed that when they told their kids about the moment they’d be wearing clothes and wouldn’t be coming down from a sex marathon.

The ring itself was gorgeous in its simplicity. It had been Carmilla’s biological mother’s ring - one of the few things that Carmilla had saved from her childhood home. It was white gold, with a princess cut diamond set into it. There were three smaller diamonds on either side of the main diamond, and they all sparkled brilliantly in the light. Laura ran her thumb over it - it might not be the most unique looking ring, but there was something about it. When she wore it she _felt_ the love that had been poured into it.

Carmilla had charmed it to fit her finger perfectly, and now that it was on, Laura couldn’t see herself taking it off for the rest of her life.

Even with the transitional feeling that had been hanging over their relationship lately, this felt like an anchor. A port in the storm. Proof of something more, of something solid.

And God, it was _so_ pretty.

She sat down at the table, shuffling one of the impatient owls aside as she took out the wooden box that Perry and LaFontaine had given her in fifth year. Inside was the golden pheasant quill and she let out a quiet sigh as she looked down at it. She hardly ever used it anymore, like most journalists she used the EverReady Pen - a twist on a non-magical pen that you could press to paper and have the ink flow onto the page at the command of your thoughts.

It had been invented by a non-magical born who had gotten sick of breaking quill ends and ink splotches, citing it as easier, quicker, cleaner, and more dependable with an ink-life of 100,000 words. Of course, a lot of the older generation wizards and witches preferred quills, but the younger generation took to the pen eagerly.

But this felt more like a quill thing.

She filled the ink pot, dipped her quill, and started writing.

\---

“LaFontaine? LaFontaine!”

( _Fire._ )

LaF jerked awake and then let out a long groan, their hand going to their neck. It took them a moment to realise where they were - office, couch, bright, sun, ugh. They must have fallen asleep last night while Danny was pouring over the birth records.

They blinked and looked up at Perry, who was standing there with a smile and a mug of coffee. She handed them the mug as they heaved themselves upright, and they took a deep breath of the coffee in. “Hazelnut?”

“Of course.”

LaFontaine moaned softly. “You’re the best, Perr.”

Perry blushed happily and took a seat on the couch next to them. “So, guess who’s getting married?”

“Please don’t tell me it’s your mother.”

Perry’s parents had gotten divorced shortly after she’d moved out of home five years ago. Apparently she had been the only thing keeping their marriage together. While this fact didn’t shock her, it did affect her. LaFontaine, Danny and Kirsch had practically moved into her shoebox of an apartment, filling it up and refusing to let Perry wallow. (Laura and Carmilla had been in the middle of a year long holiday around the world. They invited the others to join but everyone was already too stuck into their jobs to take that much the time off.)

Perry grimaced. “No. It’s Laura and Carmilla!” She waved an open letter in front of LaF’s face.

LaFontaine had a moment (one that they’d never tell anyone) of jealousy. Just a moment. Wondering if they got a letter too, or if it was just Perry - if Laura and Carmilla wanted them there.

Perry gestured to the stack of letters in her lap. “You got one too!” LaFontaine panicked, wondering if Perry had read their face, but Perry moved on casually, reading over the letter for what was probably the tenth time. “They want to go out to dinner with us.”

LaFontaine took their letter from Perry’s lap and opened it up, skimming over it. It was all Laura in the letter, which wasn’t a surprise. It was warm and loving and made LaFontaine feel guilty for doubting they’d want them there.

Then they realised that Perry was wearing the same clothes she was last night, albeit a lot more crinkled.

“Did you sleep here?” they asked gently.

Perry started at LaF’s question, unsure of how to respond, before biting her lip and nodding. “You looked... You weren’t sleeping well.”

LaF cleared their throat and their grip on the letter tightened. “Oh.”

“We took shifts.”

At the ‘we’ LaF looked up, their eyes searching Perry’s.

As if on cue, Danny walked in from the adjoining room - her personal office -, yawning. She paused mid-yawn and eyed LaFontaine’s mug. “Is that coffee?”

Silently, Perry stood and went over to the percolator, poured out another mug, and handed it to Danny.

“Hazelnut?” Danny asked. Perry nodded and Danny burst into a smile. “You’re the best.”

“That’s what I said,” LaF inserted. Danny’s attention went over to LaFontaine and she gave them a warm smile that they were sure had something to do with their bad dreams.

Danny collapsed onto the couch and took a long sip of her coffee. LaFontaine looked over at Perry, who seemed to sink a little with the sight of Danny taking up her spot on the couch, but LaFontaine wasn’t sure if she actually did or if they were just...

Kirsch shuffled into the room, running his hand through his hair and yawning so wide that it looked like his jaw had unhinged. His right arm was a fuzzy mess of colours, like it usually was when he was still waking up, mixing up and down his arm in a steady flow. Danny held up her mug to him and he bent down to kiss her on the top of her head before taking a sip of her coffee and returning it to her.

“Morning,” he gave everyone in the room a lazy half-wave. The tattoo on his arm settled into an image - an underwater scene with all manner of animals including a whale, dolphin, turtles, and more. He hopped onto the back of the sofa behind Danny and started to massage her shoulders out of habit. She leaned back into him and he kissed her on the top of her head again as his hands continued to work the tension out of her shoulders.

“Guess who’s getting married?” Perry asked, moving to stand in front of all of them, on the other side of the coffee table that had a bunch of old editions of the Quibbler for clients since the couch was technically the waiting area.

Danny made a vague noise behind her coffee cup, looking less than thrilled with the topic, but Kirsch sat up immediately. “Oh! Is it that guy in your team? Alex? Did his boyfriend finally propose? Or-or your team leader? I didn’t know she was seeing anyone. Or... crap, is it your mom?”

“Laura and Carmilla.”

“Oh shit!” Kirsch’s hands stilled on Danny’s shoulders. “Seriously? That’s so awesome!”

Perry nodded. “They want to have dinner.”

“Fuck yeah.” Kirsch sat up taller. “When? Tonight? Do you think we can do it tonight?”

“I’ll write her back.” Perry went over to LaFontaine’s desk opposite the couch and started to pen a quick letter.

“We should get them a present. Like an engagement present. Is that a thing?” Kirsch started to bounce up and down on the back of the couch.

Danny put a hand on his knee to make him stop, looking slightly ill. “Hon, it’s too early for bouncing.”

“Sorry, babe.” He started to massage her again as an apology and grinned eagerly at LaFontaine and Perry. “This is gonna be so awesome!”

\---

**6 months, 14 days**

This was so awkward.

It had taken a solid two weeks for all of them to align their schedules properly, and now they were all at the Orrery (a restaurant that no one except Laura and Carmilla had been to). LaFontaine eyed the prices on the menu and grimaced. They might be working on a new Potions textbook, but that was nowhere near finished, and any money they were getting from selling potions went towards funding Danny’s business. She had a habit of causing a lot of property damage during investigations.

They glanced at the others around the table, who looked like they’d come to the same realisation. They could see Perry making mental calculations to see how far she could stretch her money; Kirsch had gone completely pale; and Danny just had an unsurprised look of resignation. Danny had cut herself off from her family’s money at her 21st birthday, making a vow to stand on her two feet from then on. (She had also been on her twelfth firewhisky of the night and made the declaration from atop Kirsch’s shoulders - but she had stuck to it for the past five years.)

“Do you guys like the look of anything?” Laura asked brightly. “The lobster’s pretty great.”

LaFontaine scanned the menu for the lobster, saw the price, and almost choked on their water.

Carmilla eyed them. “We’re paying.”

“Oh, we couldn’t let you do that,” Perry quickly said - even though LaFontaine was definitely not going to argue against it.

“Please,” Carmilla scoffed.

Laura shot her a look and added, “We are. We invited you out, we’ll take care of the bill.”

“Dude, no. We can totally pay.” Kirsch swallowed and tugged at his tie. “Do you think the salad’ll be cheaper if I ask them not to ‘mist the leaves with the finest of fresh spring water’?” He adjusted the cuff on his right sleeve. Underneath the sleeve his tattoo had formed a suit sleeve, his hand plain for the first time that any of them had seen and he didn’t look particularly comfortable with the situation.

Carmilla regarded everyone around the table carefully. She stood up. “Get up.”

Everyone else at the table stared up at her as if she’d gone crazy.

“Get up. We’re going back to my place and getting take out.”

“Oh no, this place is lovely, we should stay-”

“Red, quit being so polite. We’re leaving.”

After a moment of awkwardness, Laura stood and the rest of them followed suit, unsure of how to leave the expensive restaurant without insulting the staff. Carmilla simply strode out of the restaurant, walking past the circle bar at the centre of the room without even looking at them.

The maitre d’ at the entrance looked distressed by their leaving and he immediately walked over to Carmilla, asking if they had done something wrong.

“Nope, just not feeling it tonight. Here.” She slipped him some money without any of them seeing how much money had changed hands. “For your trouble.”

He looked less distressed after that.

“Dude.” Kirsch jogged forward to catch up with Carmilla. “That was so fucking cool, can you teach me how to do that?”

\---

“I’m sorry, we didn’t know we’d have guests.” Laura quickly shuffled all the papers and books off the kitchen table and grabbed the dishes, dumping them in the sink and rushing around to try and make the kitchen more presentable even though no one actually minded.

Kirsch was currently practicing Carmilla’s money tipping technique with her, pumping his fist when he nailed it, fireworks exploding through the suit sleeve tattoo and tearing it to shreds. After the fireworks died down, his arm took on the night sky and Carmilla started helping him fix the constellations so that they were accurate.

Perry was looking around the kitchen, which had changed somewhat since the last time they’d come here. The way that they’d built the house meant that the inside could be changed with some precisely cast spells; and the kitchen, which once had been a small, relatively unimportant room, had grown. It was still cosy, but the table that sat against the wall was large enough to comfortably sit eight people around the three free sides, in the corner was a black iron fireplace, and the floor was black and white checkered tiling that Perry was sure had been Laura’s taste. There was more counter space, a huge spice rack hung on the wall at an angle, and a wooden paper roll dispenser next to it. The walls were covered in photos - landscapes, portraits, group shots, and a fair amount of them were of Laura. There was a large painting on the wall above the table, a sunset - but not just any sunset, Perry recognised it as the view from the Hogwarts Astronomy tower. Something caught in her throat as she looked at the painting, but she didn’t say anything, just staring at it.

Laura nudged her elbow and offered her a glass of wine, which Perry accepted with a smile. Laura gestured to the painting and said, “Carm painted it.”

“It’s beautiful.”

LaFontaine was already sitting down at the table, flicking through a book that they’d rescued from being put away by Laura. “I really wanted to read this, is it any good?” they asked, but the only one who heard them was Danny. Upon realising that they grimaced and shuffled uncomfortably in their seat.

“Its gotten really good reviews,” Danny offered and they gave her a grateful smile before going back to the book.

There was a knock on the kitchen door and Carmilla opened it for the delivery person. They swung up a bag that barely looked like it would be able to carry one pizza, and pulled a mountain of food out of it, which they handed to Carmilla.

Kirsch jumped in next to Carmilla. “Oh, wait, wait, let me pay.”

Carmilla regarded Kirsch bemusedly as she handed him the money that they’d pooled together. He used the technique that she’d taught him to pay the delivery person, who looked a combination of bored and confused until they realised what he was doing and rolled their eyes. Once he did it successfully he grinned at them, holding his palm up. “High five, bro!”

The delivery person stared at his hand then turned around, got back onto their broom and flew away. Kirsch shrugged and closed the door, turning to the rest of them where Carmilla had dumped the food onto the table and Laura was now passing around plates and napkins.

“Dude, I totally did it!” Kirsch exclaimed.

“Good job, Chewy.” Carmilla handed him a glass of firewhisky and he grinned as he accepted it.

“Guessing you’re still a firewhisky person, Clifford?” Carmilla called over to Danny as she poured another glass.

Danny shook her head. “I don’t drink anymore. Not after my birthday last year.” LaF stiffened next to her.

“Danny Lawrence not hogging all my firewhisky? I didn’t see that one coming,” Carmilla snarked as she sat down next to Laura, keeping the glass for herself, and leaving an arm dangling across the back of her chair.

Danny rolled her eyes as she helped herself to several slices of pizza. LaF was picking at a spot on the table and Perry put her hand on theirs, stopping their erratic movements, and giving their hand a squeeze.

“So,” Perry said, clearing her throat, “since we’re here to celebrate your engagement I would like to make a toast.”

Carmilla sighed. “Of course.”

Laura nudged her and they both smiled at the nostalgia of the moment, Carmilla leaning into Laura’s side.

Ignoring Carmilla’s comment, Perry held her wine glass up. “I know that we don’t see each other as much as we like, but I - and all of us - are so happy for you both.”

There was a pause as everyone waited to see if Perry had anything more to say, but when it became evident she was finished, they all took a sip of their drinks.

“Your speeches have gotten shorter, Red,” Carmilla commented.

Perry blushed. “I haven’t really had any... speech-worthy moments lately.”

Carmilla watched her with sharp eyes and then nodded. “Well, better brush up on those skills before the wedding.”

“You want me to make a speech at the wedding?”

Carmilla shrugged as she took a sip of her firewhisky. “I figured you’d be keen on making one.”

“I-” Perry looked lost for words for a moment before she nodded and her expression brightened. “Of course.”

“How many speeches are there going to be, Karnstein?” Danny asked before folding two pieces of pizza into each other and shovelling the entire thing into her mouth.

“Christ.” Carmilla rolled her eyes. “Fine, all of you can make speeches. Just try not to embarrass yourselves. Or us.”

“We could do a skit,” LaFontaine suggested with a painted on grin.

“That would break the whole not embarrassing rule,” Carmilla commented dryly.

“It would be tasteful,” Perry supplemented.

Carmilla sighed heavily and leaned back, taking a long sip of her drink and letting Laura represent her in the conversation instead. She let her eyes drift around the table until they landed on LaFontaine, whose grin was long gone as they stared at their glass of water blankly. Carmilla watched them with an expression that would seem casual to anyone who didn’t know her.

It took a moment, but LaF finally sensed the attention, and looked up to meet Carmilla’s eyes. Carmilla tilted her head in a silent question, her eyes narrowing ever so fractionally. LaF’s gaze dropped back down to their glass.

Carmilla stood, going over to the sink and throwing the rest of her firewhisky down the drain with a flick of her wrist, and rinsing out the glass before refilling it with water. LaFontaine watched her as she sat back down, their face unreadable. Carmilla just tilted her glass towards them before taking a drink of the water.

LaFontaine seemed caught between emotions, hesitation making their fingers dance along the rim of the glass, but finally they mirrored Carmilla’s actions - albeit with an edge of wryness.

“...we could have a disco ball!”

That drew Carmilla out of her silent conversation with a start as she turned to Laura. “Cupcake, _no_.”

\---

It was well into the early morning hours by the time that everyone left Laura and Carmilla’s, despite Laura’s invitation for them to spend the night. Carmilla slid into their bed gratefully, letting out a content sound as she settled under the sheets and sank into the mattress.

“That was really fun,” Laura said as she peeled her clothes off with a relieved sigh. “We should really do that more often.”

Carmilla hummed, rubbing her face against her pillow contentedly.

“I really missed those guys.” Laura rounded the bed to go into their ensuite to brush her teeth. She leaned back around the corner and asked, “Do you think we should spend more time with them?”

“When?” Carmilla asked, refusing to open her eyes or move from the incredibly comfortable position she was in.

Laura leaned back to spit in the sink. “I don’t know, like maybe once a week? I don’t want to turn into one of those couples that has no friends.”

“We have friends,” Carmilla mumbled into the pillow.

“Did you say something?”

Carmilla turned her face towards the bathroom and said in a slightly annoyed, louder voice, “We _have_ friends.”

“I know but...” Laura wiped her mouth on her towel and walked back into the bedroom. “You just- I don’t know, I thought you might...”

Carmilla’s eyes opened. “You think _I_ need more friends.”

Laura climbed into bed next to her, wearing an oversized shirt that used to belong to Kirsch that she’d stolen a few years ago when they’d ended up crashing at his after his 21st birthday.

“I know you have your reading and your painting and everything but... I’m just worried that you get...” Laura bit her lip and Carmilla knew that she’d have to wrestle down her temper in a moment. “Lonely. When I’m at work and everything.”

Carmilla closed her eyes. Of course it was this again. _Of course it was_. She worked hard to pin down the flash of frustration that always spiked up at this conversation topic. Breathe. _She’s not attacking you, she’s just trying to help_ , she reminded herself. She gritted her teeth to stop her anger from coming out of her mouth in sharply barbed words.

(Breathe. Breathe. Breathe.)

The silence must have felt oppressive to Laura, because she broke it nervously, “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to-”

“It’s fine,” Carmilla cut her off but it came out too hard. Far harder than she meant it, because she wasn’t able to calm herself down enough before Laura had forced her to speak. Laura shrank away from her and she forced her anger to freeze in her veins, taking another quick breath in and out before repeating, “It’s fine.”

Laura looked like she still didn’t believe her, so Carmilla swallowed down her pride as best she could. “I’ll visit Veronica Mars on Monday.” She reached out to Laura and pulled her close, dropping a kiss on her forehead and wrapping herself around Laura’s body. Laura finally relaxed and Carmilla did the best to pack away the rest of her anger, forcing it down and away and away, holding onto the smell of Laura’s conditioner and the feeling of being wrapped around her body instead.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you want to get any extras about this story then follow me on tumblr at [churchofyourcurves](churchofyourcurves.tumblr.com) or check out the tag #carmilla hp au
> 
> I also have some behind the scenes shorts of stuff that I didn't put into the main story for whatever reason, as well as prompts that people have sent me. Check them out [here](http://churchofyourcurves.tumblr.com/tagged/carmilla-hp-au-bts) or take a look at the tag #carmilla hp au bts
> 
> I try to get updates up every Tuesday and Friday (AEST)


	4. The Dragons

**6 months, 13 days**

A box of donuts dropped onto LaFontaine’s desk, making them jump.

It had been a quiet morning so far, a few owls had come in but nothing too important, and LaFontaine had gotten too involved in writing the newest chapter of their textbook to realise that Carmilla had walked into the office. (They made a mental note to get a bell for the front door.)

“Donuts are more of a cop thing but I figured this was better than bringing scotch,” Carmilla drawled. She was still wearing her sunglasses and one of her hands was tucked into her leather jacket, her hip cocked at a casual angle.

LaFontaine looked up at her, eyebrow raised and Carmilla gave a shrug as she pulled her sunglasses off. “Sorry. Where’s the boss?” She twirled her sunglasses in her fingers as she walked around the office, examining the framed articles of past cases and photos with clients on the walls.

“She’s out. Some stakeout on a possible dragon parts importer.”

Carmilla grew bored of the walls and collapsed onto the couch, propping her feet up on the coffee table and this time her eyebrow was the one to go up. “How you doing with that?”

“Fine,” LaF answered carefully, staring at the dirt marks the heels of Carmilla’s boots were leaving on the table. “What are you doing here, Carmilla?”

“What, I can’t visit an old friend?” She was still spinning the sunglasses using her thumb and forefinger and LaF got distracted momentarily before forcing their attention away.

“I believe your exact words were: ‘You couldn’t pay me to visit that dump’.”

Carmilla sighed. “Laura wanted me out of the house. She thinks I’m lonely.”

“So you brought donuts,” LaF deadpanned.

“There’s jam ones in there you know.”

LaFontaine immediately opened up the box and grabbed one of the jam donuts, scooping some of the excess jam with their finger and licking it clean.

Carmilla looked around the office, looking less than impressed. “Where’re the rest of the Scoobs?”

“They’re at work.” Pointing out the obvious was probably better done without the mouthful of donut, but LaFontaine didn't care at this point. “They usually come by for dinner.”

“You know, you _could_ work somewhere nicer.” Carmilla ran a finger along the ledge behind the couch and flicked off the non-existent dust she’d collected. (Late nights with Perry in the office meant everything stayed super clean.)

LaF sucked the last of the sugar off their fingers. “Thanks for the tip, but we’re good.”

“Suit yourself.”

“Did you just come here to mock our office or are you trying to score brownie points with your fiancée?”

“Kitty has claws,” Carmilla sneered sarcastically. Then something in her demeanour shifted and she seemed smaller than before somehow, different. “Maybe Laura was right.”

Suddenly LaFontaine remembered why they were friends, despite Carmilla’s less than charming personality. They stood up and went over to the coat rack by the door, getting their jacket off one of the hooks. “Come on.”

Carmilla looked less than thrilled about leaving. “Why? Where?”

“We’re getting lunch. And you’re paying because I have to put up with your mildly insulting shit.”

“You only consider me mildly insulting? I need to up my game.” Carmilla hopped off the couch and followed LaF out of the office.

\---

Carmilla eyed the wine list and LaFontaine shifted in their seat.

“You can order alcohol if you want. It’s not going to make me have a meltdown.”

“I know.” Carmilla set aside the wine list. “It’s all crap though.”

LaFontaine didn’t quite believe her, but they let it slide as they looked over the food options. This was Danny and their favourite place to go for lunch, a few doors down from their office in Congenie Alley (the newer option for the growing wizarding population that was far cheaper than Somnium Avenue, and more modern than Diagon Alley).

“LaFontaine!” Wendy the waitress quickly made her way to their table, blushing as she tucked a loose strand of hair behind her ear. She was pretty in a ‘girl next door’ way, and looked like she would probably burst into tears if anyone yelled at her. She was wearing work blacks, with sneakers that looked like they’d seen better days, and her brunette hair was tied up in a neat pony tail - barring her fringe that kept escaping and falling in front of her face. She looked at LaFontaine with an expression that cut somewhere between adoration and fear, and Carmilla suppressed her smirk as Wendy smiled shyly and asked, “How are you?”

“I’m good thanks, Wendy, how are you?” LaF replied politely.

“Good, good.” Wendy had to tuck her fringe back behind her ear and she bit her lip as she stared down at her pad. “Did you want the usual?”

“Hook me up, Wends.”

Wendy practically vibrated with happiness as she made a note on her pad. She turned her attention to Carmilla with a professional smile. “What can I get you for today?”

“Same as them.”

“No worries, any drinks?”

“Just water,” Carmilla replied for both of them and Wendy nodded, collecting their menus and shooting LaF one last broad smile before she went back towards the direction of the kitchen behind the bar.

Carmilla settled into her chair and eyed LaFontaine pointedly.

“What?”

“Do you normally get table service at a pub?” she asked. When they’d first walked into the pub she’d headed straight for the bar, as custom dictated, but LaFontaine had directed her over to a booth in the corner.

LaFontaine shifted, uncomfortable with where the conversation was going. “They know me here.”

“They? Or she?” Carmilla turned to pointedly look at Wendy, who was staring in their direction and when she noticed them looking in her direction she started frenziedly wiping the counter. “Did you dip into the honey pot, Ginger Meggs?”

“I...” LaFontaine reddened. “Back when I... Last year, after...”

Carmilla’s expression softened, and she leaned forward, about to tell LaFontaine that they didn’t need to explain.

“I used to flirt with her. A lot. And we kissed. One time. It was the one year anniversary.”

Carmilla looked like she regretted bringing it up, but instead of voicing her regret, she just nodded and accepted the answer. She cleared her throat, and cast a look at the waitress who was still over-enthusiastically cleaning the counter. “What does Pippi Longstocking think about your secret admirer?”

LaFontaine frowned. “Why would she care?”

Carmilla pulled a face but then shook it off. “No reason.”

“Do you think it makes Perry uncomfortable?” LaF grimaced. “I mean it’s not like I’ve dated anyone since... But I mean there was that guy that she worked with, they were kind of close, and I always thought maybe-”

“Seven years, and still feels like high school,” Carmilla commented dryly.

LaFontaine shrugged and mumbled to the ground, “I just haven’t met anyone that I’ve wanted to-”

“Water!” Wendy put two glasses and a full bottle of water down on the table. “Sorry for the wait, I was...”

“Cleaning,” Carmilla finished for her. “We saw.”

Wendy blushed and distractedly tucked away her fringe again. “Do you need anything else?” she asked LaFontaine.

“Food would be great,” Carmilla replied, angling her head to try and get somewhere within Wendy’s field of vision, despite it being currently focused squarely on LaFontaine.

“I’ll go check on that for you.”

“Could you not freak out the waitress at our normal food place please?” LaFontaine hissed after she walked away.

“Hey, I’m just trying to get some decent service in between her humping your leg.”

LaFontaine started to pick at the table, going red with anger and frustration.

“You know,” Carmilla drawled as she started pouring the water in each glass, “just because you acted a certain way when you were going through a rough time in your life, doesn’t mean you have to pay for it now.”

“I’m not paying for anything.”

“If you say so,” Carmilla sighed.

“And if I was, I deserve to, the way I acted...”

“LaFontaine,” Carmilla snapped, “if you ever say that again, I’m going to break your wand in two and jam the parts into your ears because clearly you have nothing going on inside that skull of yours.”

 _Whoa_.

“Okay,” LaF agreed, not knowing if they were more thrown by the use of their name, or by what she’d said.

Wendy came by with their food and deposited it silently, clearly intimidated by Carmilla, and offered LaFontaine a small smile before going back to the safety of the bar.

“I know I wasn’t around a lot then, I didn’t-” Carmilla sighed heavily. “Dead parents make me...”

“It’s okay.”

“It’s not.”

“It is,” LaFontaine insisted. “I know it must be hard, with your dad and all.”

Carmilla shrugged. She picked up her fork and stabbed several of the chips on her plate onto it. “How are your dragons?” she asked, clearly wanting to change the subject.

LaFontaine smiled and undid their overshirt, taking it off to reveal a singlet and two sizeable dragon tattoos - one on each arm. On their left arm was the Antipodean Opaleye, twisting and turning as if flying in a wind, the end of her tail curled and flicked at their elbow, her opal scales shone and sparkled, while her snout was up by their shoulder. She let out a vivid red flame and spun around to look at Carmilla, their multi-coloured eyes blinking slowly.

On their right was a Hungarian Horntail, who was curled up on their shoulder. He unfurled his wings, spreading them wide, and sent a lazy snort of fire down LaFontaine’s arm. Then he tucked his wings back into himself and settled back down with a yawn.

LaF watched the Horntail settle down with an affectionate smile. “He’s not a morning person.”

They slipped their shirt back on, accidentally making eye contact with Wendy as they did. She had been staring at the tattoos with an awed expression - LaF had only gotten them at the end of last year and they always kept them hidden. They didn’t really know why, they just felt... personal.

\---

**1 year, 3 months, 10 days**

“This is going to be painful.”

LaFontaine stared dead ahead, willing themselves not to lose their nerve. “I know.”

“We don’t usually do two. People struggle with one. And if you can’t handle two then you lose both.”

Danny squeezed LaFontaine’s hand. They were sitting in a dingy back room of a magical supplies shop in Congenie Alley. The shop itself was practically empty; the few products that it did stock looked old, broken, or boring. That wasn’t the main trade that the store did - that happened in the back room. Surrounded by jars of indeterminate objects, a counter that was full of random ingredients, as well as a beat up looking, huge cauldron. In the corner of the room a fire blazed, independent of any sort of burning fuel, fireplace or torch. It was hovering just above the base of a support stand that had a long metal rod that went up half a metre, halfway up - just above the flame - was a metal clamp that was holding out a thin, glass tube above the flame.

LaFontaine hadn’t seen anything like it before, but when they noticed it they had made a note of it for future reference. It would probably be a good way to isolate ingredients in smaller portions at different temperatures, it could definitely help with making some of the trickier potions.

What they were doing right now had nothing to do with potions.

“I understand.” They looked at Danny, whose expression was halfway to terrified, but she was doing her best to rein it in. “I can take it.”

The overweight, balding wizard looked almost impressed, but it was gone in a moment, as he cleared his throat, scratched his cheek, and nodded. “Alright, I need the wands.”

LaFontaine took in a steadying breath as subtly as they could before reaching into their jacket and pulling out their parents’ wands. He took them without care and they tried not to grimace at the rough way he was handling them. He tested them, waving them experimentally, then he held them in both hands and snapped them.

LaFontaine couldn’t help the strangled cry that came out of their throat, or the way that they fell forward as if the man had reached into their chest and pulled at their heart. He eyed them sharply, as if trying to judge if he should continue. They had to blink back tears, but they nodded and waved him on.

Danny’s grip on their hand was like a vice.

He put down one set of halves on the counter, and they were almost immediately lost in the mess. LaFontaine kept their eyes on them, they had to get them back after this was done. A glance over at Danny, and they knew that she was thinking the same thing.

The wizard brought up the top halves of the wands to his eyes, examining them closely with brightly intelligent eyes that looked out of place set into his overhanging forehead. He rolled his chair over to the fire, making it groan and squeak as he did. He took out his own wand and pointed it at the flame, muttering something under his breath. He cast a suspicious look back at the two, as if trying to judge if they had heard what he’d said. Satisfied that they hadn’t, he put his wand away and thrust the broken tips of LaF’s parents’ wands into the now bright white flame.

Danny’s grip tightened.

LaFontaine realised that they were practically leaping out of their chair and they forced themselves back.

After five seconds he pulled the wand parts out of the flame, studied the ends, which were glowing white, and then rolled back over to LaFontaine.

“Are you ready?”

They stared into his eyes - his pupils had been turned white from staring into the flame - and swallowed, holding out their arms. “Yes.”

He jammed the white-hot wand tips into their forearms - their father’s on the right, mother’s on the left.

_Fire. Fire everywhere. It was searing their skin, peeling it off layer by layer. It hurt, beyond anything, beyond everything. They opened their mouth to scream, but they had no voice. The fire engulfed their limbs, melting away everything else, until they were made of fire. They opened their eyes (they didn’t know when they’d closed them) to one yellow and one multi-coloured._

_Half of their vision had gone a dull, gradient of greys - the flames just a play of shades that felt like cold water on their skin. The other half was vibrant, so vibrant that it felt like they should be blinded by it, but instead it just felt soothing, like getting into a steamy bath after a long day._

_They looked down and their skin had given way to scales, their left arm a pale pearl and the right a dark, dark, dark black. Panic started to rise from the bottom of their gut, up to their throat, starting to close it with their fear._

_What was happening? What was-?_

“ _It’s okay, gremlin.”_

_(Dad.)_

_Their hair stood on end and they tried to turn around to where the voice had come from, right over their shoulder, but they couldn’t turn._

“ _Relax honey, everything will be okay.”_

_(Mom.)_

_The panic turned into something else, something darker but lighter at the same time. Grief mixed with relief, anguish mixed with elation._

_They breathed in deep, letting the fire fill their lungs and make their chest feel like it was exploding. It was excruciating, like drinking molten lava, and they wanted to force it back out of their lungs but they held it in. With the sensation of their organs turning to ash, they slowly let the breath back out._

_Two tears crawled down their face, drops of fire that went from blistering to liberating by the time they fell from their face._

They woke up.

Danny was next to them. It was dark. They were in bed. Danny handed them a glass of water, and they downed it all in one go. They’d never been this thirsty before, it was as if they’d been wandering the desert for the past month.

“Hey,” they croaked, “how long was I out?”

Danny winced. “A week.”

“A week?!” LaF sat up and winced as soon as they did, falling back down onto the bed. “What happened?”

“You were dreaming.”

LaFontaine looked around the room, it was the dead of night and they were in Danny's loft. Kirsch was asleep in an armchair at the end of the bed, curled up in a ball.

Danny had dark circles under her eyes and her face was lined with grief and tiredness. “We didn’t know if you’d wake up.”

LaFontaine felt a stab of guilt. Even when they were trying to do the right thing it came out selfish.

Danny quietly went over to refill the glass and returned, handing it to LaFontaine. They drank it all in one go again. “Kirsch told Perry we were away investigating a case, but... you might have to tell her. It’s kind of hard to miss.”

LaF frowned, and then quickly checked their arms, searching for the scales from their dream. But their arms were normal, blank, unblemished skin. They gave Danny a puzzled look and she gestured to their shoulders. They almost leapt out of bed in surprise.

On either shoulder, a dragon slept peacefully on their skin.

LaFontaine reached up and touched the Horntail, running their finger along the smooth skin. It was still hot, not hot enough to burn, but hot enough.

It had worked. Their parents’ souls were bound to theirs now.

They started to cry.

\---

**6 months, 13 days**

Laura opened up her pMessage Parchment and smiled at it.

“Ball and chain?” Eric asked as he threw a small rubber ball into the air and caught it. He was her desk mate and fellow researcher at the Daily Prophet. At first she hadn’t been a fan of him, he was loud and presumptuous and handsome enough that he was used to getting his way with almost everything—but he had grown on her. And he was better than most of the people they worked with who were older, more bitter, and tended to just want to come in, do their time, and clock out.

“She’s out at lunch with our friend.”

“She left the house?” He raised an eyebrow. “Did you bribe her?”

She grabbed an empty inkpot off her desk and threw it at him. He dodged it with a laugh, flashing her a broad smile with his stupidly perfect teeth. The way he smiled oozed confidence, like he was painfully aware of how good looking he was, which was why Laura had never introduced him to Carmilla. Carmilla would hate him on sight and probably spend the whole time antagonising him, and Laura would rather just avoid that situation thank you very much.

“Hey.” He grabbed the inkpot off the ground and put it back on her desk. “Just saying, you made it seem like she doesn’t play well with others.”

Eric may have also experienced the brunt of her frustrations (frustrations she’d never say to Carmilla, because they were temporary and not worth the fight). Especially when they had to work long nights and her filter had become non-existent.

“Well...” Laura really didn’t have a comeback to that, so she just huffed. “She’s trying, so.”

“That’s good, Hollis,” he said, and he looked like he really meant it.

“Yes it is.” She nodded to herself. “Good.”

He considered her with a careful gaze before changing the subject, “How’s the wedding planning going?”

She let out a groan, leaning forward to rest her forehead on her desk. “Everything is going wrong.”

He gave her a sympathetic smile and patted her on the back. “Welcome to getting married.”

“You’ve never gotten married,” she mumbled into the desk.

“Well, no, but I _hear_ it’s a pain in the ass.”

Instead of dignifying that with a response, Laura just let out another long groan.

“Lunch!” The lunch lady pushed her cart past their desk and Eric rolled over to her, sharing a short, flirty conversation with her before getting two sandwiches and winking at her as she left.

“Stop flirting with her,” Laura said, not moving from her spot. “Don’t you remember how you made the last one stop coming?”

“Well, to be fair, I did make him come.”

Laura tilted her head to pull a face at him. “Why are you so gross?”

“You say gross, I say hilarious.” He deposited one of the sandwiches in front of her. “Also, generous.”

Laura appraised him, then the sandwich, and made a noncommittal noise as she grabbed it off the desk and sat up to eat it.

He grinned that stupid, smug grin and she threw the packaging at him.

“Hollis, Harker.” One of their other coworkers poked her head around the partition. “Drinks this Friday?”

“As always!” Laura replied sunnily and Penny smiled at her in return, leaving to go on the hunt for more people. Laura looked over at Eric, who was wearing a pained expression. She rolled her office chair over to him. “You know, I think it’s _ador_ able that you have a crush on her.”

“Shut up, Hollis,” he muttered.

She patted him on the arm patronisingly before rolling back over to her section of the desk. The pMessage sat unanswered on her Parchment.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you want to get any extras about this story then follow me on tumblr at [churchofyourcurves](churchofyourcurves.tumblr.com) or check out the tag #carmilla hp au
> 
> I also have some behind the scenes shorts of stuff that I didn't put into the main story for whatever reason, as well as prompts that people have sent me. Check them out [here](http://churchofyourcurves.tumblr.com/tagged/carmilla-hp-au-bts) or take a look at the tag #carmilla hp au bts
> 
> I try to get updates up every Tuesday and Friday (AEST)


	5. The Krum Challenge

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey everyone, I know it's been a long time and I'm really sorry about that. I can't promise that this means I'll be updating regularly since I'm probably the busiest I've ever been, but I will try my hardest to update. Also, since I've got so much on my plate this story will probably be a lot shorter than I first intended it, and than my other ones, but hey hopefully it's a fun one anyway.

**6 months, 13 days**

The Sports department head slammed his palm down on the table, silencing everyone in the meeting room. “We simply cannot allow Squibs to play Quidditch. That invites non-magicals to play and that is...” His perfectly groomed moustache started to twitch furiously. He gathered himself and ran his fingers along the length of his jaw. “There is no discussion here.”

“Sir, with all due respect-”

“If you’re looking to give me some speech about inclusiveness and how Quidditch doesn’t require any magical skill, I won’t have it.”

Ming fell silent, sitting back in her seat.

He looked around the room, searching the faces of his employees for any more disagreement. No one said anything, and he nodded. “Now, can we get back to the tournament please?”

Kirsch shifted uncomfortably in his spot standing against the wall on the far end of the room - he wasn’t high up enough in the department to get his own seat, he was just a liaison. He was here to listen and relay any relevant information to the teams, not to say anything.

His left hand curled into a fist, nails digging into his palm. He couldn’t say anything. He had Danny and she had the business and they had only just found their feet financially. Danny liked to pretend it didn’t bother her when they were struggling with money, but he knew her better than that. They’d had way too many arguments about how loudly he chewed for it to be just about his chewing.

But now they were good, they were steady, and Danny was happy. And he wouldn’t ruin that, not because his boss was an asshole, not for anything.

Danny’s dad was sitting down to the right of the department head and he stared at Mr Lawrence, willing him to say something, but he didn’t.

After the meeting, Kirsch caught up with Thatcher Lawrence and asked him about the issue that had divided their department for the past two years. He’d always assumed that Thatch had been on the side of the squibs, he was such a relaxed guy when it came to most things, but the surveying squint that Thatcher set on him made Kirsch’s stomach turn abruptly.

“Look, Brody, I haven’t got anything against squibs. Or non-magical people. I mean, your little sister is fantastic with a Quaffle, considering, and she’s great fun on the pitch.” A cold stab ran down Kirsch’s spine. “But it defeats the purpose to have non-magical people playing magical sports at the league level doesn’t it? Surely they can just enjoy doing it for fun on the side? Plus, then you run into the whole Statute of Secrecy rubbish, and that’s already in enough of a mess with all the appeals. You just have to know where to draw the line, you know?”

Kirsch swallowed. “Yeah, totally.”

Thatcher gave him a warm smile, seemingly unaware of the effect that his words had on Kirsch, and checked his watch. “I’ve got to go to another meeting, but why don’t you and the pup come over for dinner sometime this week? It’s been a while since you’ve been around.”

“Sure thing, I’ll ask Danny,” Kirsch replied with a strained smile. Thatcher gave him a quick squeeze on the shoulder and headed down the hallway, leaving Kirsch on his own.

\---

Kirsch was sitting on the ledge surrounding the fountain when he felt somebody stop in front of him.

“Kirsch?” Perry asked gently.

He peered up at her and gave her the most of a smile he could manage. “Hey, P.”

“Are you okay?” She hesitated, not knowing what to do

He tried to say something, but nothing came out, so he just shrugged.

Perry bit her lip and sat down next to him, smoothing out her business pants as she did. Sitting up straight, with her hands on her knees, she was still the same height as him when he was slouched over. She took in a quick breath, studying him with nervous eyes, and put her hand on his shoulder.

He let his body cave into itself more, staring hard at his clasped together hands.

Perry’s hand drifted down from his shoulder, to loop inside and around his arm, her hand coming to a rest on the top of his forearm. Her other hand joined it, as she leaned into him, and he leaned back.

“Do you want to get food?” she suggested, making her voice as light as possible.

He hummed vaguely in reply.

She searched her mind for something else that might interest him. Then something occurred to her and she nudged him. “Did you have anything really important to do today?”

“Uh...” He blinked. “I mean I have some stuff for the junior teams, but I could do it tomorrow?”

“Do you want to play hooky?”

Kirsch turned to look at her, a slow smile spreading over his face as his eyes sparkled. “ _Bro_.”

\---

Kirsch flicked on the lights in the indoor Quidditch practice arena with his wand. The stadium was free until the Harpies’ night practice, and having access to it was one of the perks of his job. He looked around the stadium and let out a breath, feeling the tightness of his chest start to loosen. On his arm, a few fluffy white clouds floated by against a blue sky, joined by birds every so often.

Perry had never been in the practice arena before, despite Kirsch’s invitations. It reminded her of being younger, and the dreams that she’d let fall by the wayside since then. She stood at the opening now, hesitant to go in, and stared around the arena with wide eyes.

The arena was huge, the size of three standard Quidditch league pitches, and split into three sections, each section separated with a net that went from the floor all the way up to the ceiling and had a split in the middle for people to walk through. The first was the one they were standing in, with red mats on the floor and full of equipment for practice. The next was the middle section, which had blue mats and was empty, and the third was a normal looking Quidditch pitch with green mats. The blue section made her uneasy, but it was the red that caught her attention.

She didn’t recognise all the equipment, although she guessed that the cannon in front of the quarter-height goals probably shot Quaffles out to help Keepers train. Along the left wall, five targets were lined up, with huge blank scoreboards above them. In between the targets and the goals was an area that looked like a small room, but with only three walls that were three metres high, all of which were heavily padded, and looked like they had seen better days. The pockmarks in the padding looked about the size of bludgers, and Perry had to hold herself back from examining the wall from closer up.

She had thought about playing Quidditch professionally - who hadn’t? All of the Quidditch players (and some of those who hadn’t gotten into the team) at Hogwarts had dreamed of it. Making a living out of the thrilling game, testing and developing their skill at the top level of the sport. Becoming a legend.

Perry’s daydreams had never been more than a short-lived fantasy, but as Kirsch walked in front of her over to one of the bins overflowing with Quaffles, she realised how painful his job must be.

He grabbed one of the top Quaffles and tested out the pressure before throwing it under-arm to Perry, who caught it and raised an eyebrow at the easy pass. He gave her a smile that made her know that he was purposely taking it easier on her, testing if she’d lost her skills since high school. In reply, she pelted it back, putting all of her frustrations into the Quaffle. Kirsch caught it on his shoulder and winced, rubbing the spot.

“Damn, P.”

She blushed. “Sorry.”

He waved off her apology and tucked the Quaffle under his arm as he went over to the broom stands, grabbing two of them, and throwing one to Perry. She caught it and felt the familiar buzz of a broom in her hands (and a top range broom at that). These days she preferred the convenience of apparating or Portkeys, but it was good to have one in her hands again.

“Do you wanna try the Krum Challenge?” Kirsch asked with a glint in his eyes.

“What’s the Krum Challenge?”

Kirsch practically hopped over to the blue section of the gym, pushing through the net, and went over to the wall. He pointed his right arm at the wall, muttering something, and the floor opened up from the middle, the panels sliding away to the very edges. From below the floor rose another panel, the same size as the huge gap, but this one was full of machinery. There were suspended cogs at varying heights, with poles attached to every second tooth; poles that extended up until they were almost at the height of the ceiling; ominous looking rows of empty pits; a huge wheel that was complete solid except for one small hole; and at the end of it an archway. On the wall behind it, Perry noticed a red button, which looked like it was the end goal.

After the panel clicked into place, the machinery started to move. The cogs started spinning so fast that the poles looked like a solid disc, and the spaces between them looked that much smaller. The tall poles started swinging back and forth along the ground, slamming against the side before whizzing back where they came from. The empty pits now threw up balls of energy that went all the way up to the ceiling before falling back down into the pit, the balls seemed to be thrown up at random, appearing and disappearing with no clear pattern to them. The wheel was now spinning, granted not as quickly as the cogs were, but every minute or so it would change direction, making it almost impossible to plan ahead. And the end, the archway had turned into a curtain of pale blue fire. Perry stared at it and swallowed.

Kirsch extended his arms and shouted excitedly, “Krum Challenge!”

Staring up at the deadly looking equipment, Perry’s mouth dropped open slightly.

“Is this what the sports funds have been going towards?” she asked, her voice rising a few octaves.

“This,” Kirsch replied, “and the awesome post-game parties we throw.”

Perry thought of the lackluster IMC break room with the stale cookies, chipped mugs, and malfunctioning fake windows that were meant to show images of fields and mountains but more often than not just reflected the wall opposite.

“So...” Kirsch wiggled his eyebrows. “Wanna race?”

“Have you done this before?”

“Yeah, I’m the one who changes it every year.”

Perry walked over, slipping in between the nets and walking down the narrow walkway towards Kirsch, eyeing the arch of fire as she went. “You designed this.”

“Totally. I mean, Krum approves the designs and does the first run, but it’s a hobby of mine.” Kirsch looked at the challenge with an adoring warmth, and Perry couldn’t help but like it a little more.

“You never mentioned it.”

He shrugged. “I dunno. I mean, it’s not that great. And I don’t want to be one of those people that just goes on and on about something they’re super into that no one else is that interested in.”

Perry had a moment of panic, her grip tightening on the broom. “Do I do that?”

“What? No, dude, not at all. I just-” Kirsch shrugged. “All of you are doing things that are like important and add to the future and stuff. Quidditch is awesome, and I love it, but it’s not really, I dunno...” He squinted at something in the distance. “Socially conscious?”

Perry looked at the challenge in front of them (somehow it looked more terrifying from this angle), then back at Kirsch, and put a hand on his arm. “I’ll race you.”

Kirsch’s eyes snapped to her and he lit up, but held back his smile carefully. “Are you sure?”

Perry ignored her mother’s voice in the back of her mind. “Bring it,” she said with a head tilt and a smile that she hoped hid her nervousness.

Kirsch’s smile was blinding as he winked at Perry and mounted his broom.

(Oh Merlin, please, please, _please_ let me get through this.)

Perry mounted her broom and twisted her hands around the handle, trying to ignore the quickly gathering sweat on her palms, as she flew up next to Kirsch. She was a little unbalanced on the broom at first, the stiffness of her body causing the broom to overcompensate and almost throw her off, but instead of giving into the fear that spiked up, Perry forced herself to relax into it. The broom calmed, easing back and letting her settle more comfortably.

“Are you okay?” Kirsch asked as she drew level with him.

She shot him a look and he held up his hands, keeping himself upright on the broom easily using his legs.

“Mr Kirsch, I believe my team beat yours quite spectacularly in our sixth year,” she pointed out. “I can handle a broom.”

He grimaced a smile. “Sorry, P.”

She turned her attention to the course in front of them and felt the familiar mix of fear and adrenaline creep up from her stomach, wiring itself through her muscles and coiling her insides like a tightly wound spring.

Perry took in a breath in and out. “Let’s do this.”

Kirsch smirked. “Three, two, one...”

They took off.

\---

Perry was on her back, breathing hard. She blinked and the ceiling of the gym came into focus.

Kirsch’s face appeared, looking sheepish as he asked, “You okay, P?”

She groaned and sat up. Her body was aching, but not as much as it probably should be. She glared up at the pole that had gotten her just as she’d inched in front of Kirsch, sweeping her clean off her broom. Still, out of all the times that she’d been thrown off her broom, this wasn’t nearly as bad.

Kirsch helped her to her feet, explaining, “We have pretty sweet cushioning charms set up for when people fall.” He jumped on the spot and bounced a foot into the air. “Nice, huh?”

“It’s very handy, sweetie.” She steadied herself by grabbing onto his arm, and looked back up at the still moving parts above them. “Let’s do it again.”

“I don’t know, P...”

She fixed him with a stare, her eyes alight with something that barely even compared to the fire in her stomach.

“Alright, alright,” he caved, “let’s do it.”

Perry grabbed her broom from the floor next to the netting on her way back to the start of the course, determination bolstering her steps.

It took another six tries, but finally, Perry was in front of the curtain of fire, waiting for a break in it. Kirsch was hovering next to her, but he didn’t say anything, just waited. Her eyes darted from him, to the fire, and back to him.

She took in a deep breath and urged her broom through the fire.

It was like flying through a waterfall, the flames that licked at her were cold like water, but dry. When she emerged on the other side she stared at the blue flames, reaching forward with her hand and emerging it in the flames, making her shiver at the temperature drop. She withdrew her hand and stared at the unblemished skin, turning her hand over in front of her eyes.

“Krum has a thing for stuff like this.” Kirsch broke through the fire and gestured to it, making the flames dance around his arm as he did. He dropped his arm back down by his side and nodded at the red button. “You earned it.”

She flew over to the button, glancing back at Kirsch for a moment, before slamming it down.

The course started to rearrange itself, each part dismantling and moving around the panel, building itself back up so that they were at the front of it again. Except this time, everything was moving even faster than before.

Kirsch grinned. “Welcome to level two. Wanna go again?”

Perry side-eyed him and then couldn’t help the smile that slowly spread over her face as she flew forward nimbly, leaving Kirsch cheering in her wake.

\---

“I’m sorry I didn’t reply, it got really busy at work.”

Carmilla couldn’t tell if Laura was lying or not. Didn’t want to be able to. So instead, she nodded and walked over to kiss her on the cheek. Laura smiled back at her, relieved, and put her bag down on the kitchen table.

“How are LaFontaine and Danny?”

“Xena was off on some case, but the ginger’s good. You know”—she shrugged—“relatively.”

“Are they...?”

“Not drinking, as far as I can tell.”

“Good, that’s good.”

Carmilla hummed as she portioned out the food from the pot on the stove, placing a plate down in front of Laura. Laura beamed at her, kissing her softly. Carmilla turned to go back to the stove, but Laura grabbed her by the hem of her shirt and pulled her back in for another longer kiss. When they separated Carmilla searched her face, and Laura gave her the most open smile she could.

Carmilla pecked her quickly on the lips before pulling away from Laura’s grasp to serve herself some of the food as well.

“How was work?” she asked as she sat down at the table, stabbing one of the carrot pieces with her fork and taking a bite out of it.

“Same as always,” Laura replied lightly. “I’m going to go for drinks on Friday with Eric and Penny.” She watched Carmilla push around the food on her plate. “Is that okay?”

Carmilla looked up at her and faltered when she realised that Laura had been watching her. “Yeah, of course.”

“Thanks,” Laura said quietly into her plate.

They ate the rest of their meal in silence; both of them deep in thought and not noticing the reflection in the other.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you want to get any extras about this story then follow me on tumblr at [churchofyourcurves](churchofyourcurves.tumblr.com) or check out the tag #carmilla hp au
> 
> I also have some behind the scenes shorts of stuff that I didn't put into the main story for whatever reason, as well as prompts that people have sent me. Check them out [here](http://churchofyourcurves.tumblr.com/tagged/carmilla-hp-au-bts) or take a look at the tag #carmilla hp au bts


	6. The Loft

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So I may have uploaded the chapters in the wrong order, my bad the prologue threw off my count, so I've uploaded the proper chapter 4, and as an apology I'll get the next one up too.

**6 months, 9 days**

Danny rolled her shoulders, trying to work the ever present knots out of her muscles as she trudged up the stairs. It had taken all week, but she had finally caught the dragon parts importers and handed them over to the authorities that morning - which always took way longer than it should. All she wanted now was to take a really long bath and sleep in her bed.

It had been an otherwise quiet week, thankfully. LaFontaine had ordered her home, saying she looked like rubbish and if she stayed in the office she’d just drive all the clients away.

Maybe they should hire another person. With the Ministry contract they’d gotten this year, the cases were starting to get more complicated and they had to turn away clients because Danny and LaF couldn’t juggle between them well enough.

But who would she trust with her business? She’d literally built it from the ground up and the idea of leaving it in someone else’s hands...

Later. Now, bath and sleep. She forced her mind to power down, it had been the longest week ever and she felt like she was almost buzzing with exhaustion.

She reached her apartment door and fumbled for the key in her bag.

“You shouldn’t work so hard.”

Danny spun around, flicking her wand down her sleeve into her hand and aiming it at the person behind her.

Carmilla held her hands up and raised an eyebrow at Danny’s wand. “Your neighbours must love you.”

Ugh. She slumped back against the doorway.

“What do you want, Carmilla?” she asked wearily.

“I kind of...” Carmilla gave an extremely pained grimace. “Need your advice.”

Suddenly, Danny wasn’t all that tired anymore.

She tried not to smirk too much as she opened up her front door and gestured Carmilla inside.

Carmilla strode in and collapsed onto the couch in the corner that they’d turned into a living room area. The apartment was an old warehouse conversion, it didn’t have any walls except for the bathroom, so they’d done their best to separate different areas of the loft with furniture choice.

In the left corner, closest to the door, there were two long dark brown leather couches that met at a corner, as well as an extra arm chair, all of them around an old trunk turned into a makeshift coffee table.

The back left corner was the kitchen, featuring a huge steel fridge; long wooden counter with a deep stone sink; high steel table turned kitchen island; and a wooden dining table. The island was covered in a ridiculous amount of paperwork, letters, as well as some dirty dishes that Danny could have sworn she told Kirsch to clear up before she got back. If the upturned beer case filled with empty bottles next to the bin was anything to go by, he’d probably had some of his co-workers over, so it was lucky that the loft didn’t look more like a bomb had hit.

The bathroom stuck out along the right wall, enough so that the bedroom area in the back right corner was hidden from view when you walked through the front door. The bedroom was fairly sparse, their mattress was on top of wooden pallets that were left over from the original warehouse that they’d sanded and lacquered, and their clothes hung on poles that were suspended from the ceiling. Or they usually were. It looked like Kirsch had gotten lazy with that too. (Which was weird because Kirsch was usually the neater out of the two of them, but whenever she went on long cases like this he tended to forget how to act like an adult.)

Danny’s dad had bought her this apartment as a 21st birthday present - something that had contributed to her cutting herself off from the family money on her birthday (although she’d kept the apartment). Kirsch had never _officially_ moved in, it had just been a gradual process until one day he pointed out that he never went home and that he had a key (purely because she got sick of lending him her key all the time). He’d asked if they lived together, because his mother kept asking, and she shrugged, shovelled another mouthful of Chinese food into her mouth and mumbled ‘I guess’.

Danny dumped her gear down at its spot next to the door and eyed Carmilla’s feet that were now propped up on the side arm of the couch. “Make yourself at home.”

Carmilla wriggled further down into the leather cushions.

Danny ran a hand through her hair and grimaced. “I have to take a shower. Give me ten minutes.”

Carmilla grunted and grabbed the latest Quibbler off the coffee table - Kirsch’s _not_ Danny’s. She couldn’t care less about the latest in wizard celebrity gossip (at least, unless he was explaining things to her, he would get really enthusiastic, which was kind of endearing).

One scaldingly hot shower and set of clean clothes later, Danny finally felt human again as she wrapped her hair up in a towel, piling it on top of her head. She walked back into the apartment and let herself sink into the leather couch perpendicular to Carmilla’s.

“So what do you need advice on?”

Carmilla pulled a face as if she’d forgotten that was what she was here for. She buried her face further into the Quibbler and muttered, “Relationship advice.”

“You...” Danny looked around the room, as if searching for someone to react with, but there was no one else so instead she stared at Carmilla with wide eyes. “You want...” Danny swallowed down a snicker and pointed at herself. “From me?”

Carmilla rolled her eyes, threw the Quibbler back onto the coffee table, and stood up to leave. “I shouldn’t have come-”

“No, no.” Danny cleared her face of any amusement, and gestured for Carmilla to sit down again. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to...” Danny gestured vaguely in place of finishing the apology and let out a puff of a breath. “What’s wrong?”

“Things with Laura...” Carmilla shifted in her seat uncomfortably. “Can I get a drink?”

Danny’s eyes narrowed. She’d missed the warning signs before with LaF, and she’d promised herself that she never would again.

Carmilla rolled her eyes. “Not like that. I- God, can you just get me a glass of water or something? I can’t say this while you’re staring at me.”

Danny sighed as if Carmilla was asking her for a huge favour and got back up, going over to the kitchen and filling a glass with water. While the tap was running Carmilla said something and it was lost in the sound of the water running.

Danny turned the tap off. “What?”

Without turning to face her, Carmilla repeated, “It’s like there’s a wall.”

Danny looked up at the brick wall in front of Carmilla in confusion, and then recalled their previous conversation. She considered her answer carefully as she walked back over to the couches and handed Carmilla the glass over her shoulder.

Carmilla stared down at the glass as Danny sat down on the other couch again. “I just came to you because you and the Wookie... You seem...” She sighed and mumbled, “I don’t know, open?” Carmilla glanced up at Danny, who looked immensely flattered, and she scowled. “Or whatever.”

Danny fought down her complimented reaction and leaned forward to rest her elbows on her knees. “When did you guys stop talking?”

“We talk.”

“You know what I mean.”

Carmilla let out a petulant breath and took a drink of her water. “Probably when I quit teaching at Hogwarts.”

Danny’s eyebrows rose - that had been three years ago - but then curiosity got the better of her. “Why did you quit?”

Carmilla shot her a look, but it waned and she shrugged as she stared at the collection of family photographs that decorated the walls. “It was a shit job. I hated it. I missed Laura. The kids were annoying.”

“Did you tell Laura that?”

Carmilla huffed and stood up, starting to pace next to the windows that lined the left wall of the loft. The windows were huge, stretching from the high ceiling down to a metre off the ground, with a black framework dividing them into panels a foot wide and high.

“She just said stuff about how the whole unambitious thing was ‘unattractive’,” Carmilla muttered darkly.

“I’m sure she didn’t mean that.”

“Well it’s what she-” Carmilla cut herself off, forcing a breath as her pacing got more furious along the wooden floorboards. “It got really bad.” Carmilla gestured towards Danny. “You remember. Before her 21st. It’s why she stayed at her dad’s for two weeks.”

Danny’s mouth opened in a silent ‘oh’. No one had ever explained what that argument was about, just calling it silly and sweeping it aside. Carmilla captured her attention again as she spun violently on the toe of her shoe, her steps hard on the floorboards.

“You’re worried about getting into another argument,” Danny realised.

Carmilla picked up one of the dormant snitches along the windowsill and threw it up in the air. She caught it and tossed it up again.

“Arguments happen,” Danny stated.

Carmilla snatched it out of the air. “No.”

Danny watched Carmilla throw the snitch up so high that it almost hit the ceiling. “No?”

Carmilla shuffled to position herself under the snitch as it fell back down to her. “I don’t- I don’t want”—she caught the snitch with cupped hands against her chest—“that.”

Danny frowned. “You can’t just say that you don’t want to have arguments.”

“Look,” Carmilla said as she put the snitch back roughly, “you and the frat boy have been arguing since forever. You’re used to it. I’m...” Carmilla suddenly fell quiet.

“You argue all the time,” Danny pointed out, studying Carmilla carefully. Something about the way Carmilla’s eyes were hunting the objects around the room seemed off.

“Yeah, but...” Carmilla was fiddling with the magnifying glass that Kirsch’s mother had given Danny as an office-warming present.

“Not with her?” Danny tried to complete the sentence that Carmilla seemed to have no interest in finishing.

Carmilla’s shoulders tensed and she set the magnifying glass back down. The clatter of the plastic against the windowsill echoed through the apartment.

“You need to talk to her. Even if you guys get into an argument. It’s Laura, all she wants is to be close to you and you pushing her away like this isn’t helping anyone.”

Danny could feel Carmilla staunch up at the bluntness of her words but, surprisingly, she didn’t say anything.

“You’re getting married,” Danny pointed out.

“I know that,” Carmilla snarled.

“You shouldn’t start your marriage with something like this between you.”

Carmilla looked ready to burst, a molten hot explosive anger, but she held her tongue and just glared at Danny.

“You know I’m right.”

Carmilla growled and stormed out of the apartment, muttering darkly under her breath, and slamming the door behind her.

After half a minute there was a knock at the door and Danny opened it to a still glowering Carmilla.

“Lunch?” Carmilla asked brusquely.

Danny smirked, unwinding the towel and charming her hair dry with her right hand while grabbing her bag with the other.

\---

“Hello?”

LaFontaine looked up from the draught of peace that they were currently tinkering with, it was one of the harder potions to improve given the incredibly high possibility of imbalancing the mixture.

“Is anyone here?”

“I’m in the back, Perr,” LaFontaine called out, really not wanting to see what would happen if they left the potion right now.

Perry opened the door, causing the afternoon sun to spill into the windowless back room, and when the daylight hit the hellebore syrup and powdered moonstone mixture that they’d been simmering gently on the side, it exploded violently. Thankfully, Perry had charmed all of their potions equipment so that any explosions were immediately limited to a small area around them. LaFontaine stared at the ball of fire that consumed itself within a second and pulled a face.

“Oh, sweetie, I’m so sorry, I didn’t mean to-”

LaF waved off her apology. “It’s okay. Good thing to know, really.” They muttered something to themselves as they made a note on one of the many papers that were scattered on the table.

“The textbook?” Perry asked.

LaFontaine shot her a grin. “Yeah.”

The textbook had been Perry’s idea. After she’d gotten the job with the education reform team she had suggested LaFontaine write a textbook of their own, tweaking the potions to be more effective. LaFontaine had waved off the idea at first, but after what had happened last year, they realised that having something to work towards like that might be a good idea. It would at least fill the time that they would have otherwise spent fighting their cravings.

Perry had assured them that there was no pressure. No one else at work had any idea that they were working on it, and Perry wouldn’t hold them to it; it was just their chance to show up Borage. LaFontaine had been careful to avoid stressing themselves out over it, instead just focusing on the fun challenge that was potions making.

LaFontaine squinted up at Perry, whose hair was surrounded by a halo from the sun, making her look... Well, beautiful.

They shoved that thought far away.

“Aren’t you meant to be at work?”

Perry looked down, blushing. “They all went to get drinks. I came here instead.”

LaF stared at Perry, Perry with her halo and her embarrassed flush and her impeccable office clothing, and swallowed. They stood, walking towards her and she backed up out of the doorway, letting them into Danny’s part of the office. They closed the door behind them and stood next to Perry, swinging their arms in front of them to clap in a nervous rhythm.

“I sent Danny home,” they explained.

“Oh.”

LaF nodded, eyes jumping around the room as they tried to come up with something to say other than ‘you’re beautiful’. Then they realised that Perry’s eyes were on their shoulders. They were only wearing a singlet, leaving their shoulders bare and the dragons were both prowling their shoulders, letting loose bursts of flame every so often. LaFontaine edged past Perry to go into the front room, collecting their button-up shirt from where they’d left it on the back of their chair and slipped it on, hiding the dragons from view.

Even with the shirt on, Perry’s eyes stayed on their shoulders for an extra moment, but she tore them away forcibly to give LaFontaine a strained smile. “Have you eaten lunch yet?”

LaFontaine grimaced, as per usual, their hunger had been forgotten in their enthusiasm for potions, and to prove the point their stomach growled.

Perry smiled, this time less strained, as she reached into the bag she’d left on the couch and handed LaFontaine a tupperware container of food. “Your favourite.”

LaFontaine grinned at her.

\---

Kirsch and Sasha were sitting on top of the apartment block, drinking Butterbeers and looking out onto their city. The sun was starting to drift down to the horizon, sending shadows sprawling along the tops of the buildings.

They’d started coming up here after Kirsch had graduated and he could use magic outside of school. He would apparate them to the roof, since the stairs up had been blocked off after a drunken teenager had fallen off accidentally. There was surely another way up here, but it had been well hidden so apparition was the easiest way to do it. Which had actually also been a great way for Kirsch to practice apparition, letting him get over his fear of splinching.

“How do you think you went with your A levels?”

Sasha sighed and bent one of the bottle caps in her hand. “Can we not? Ma’s already on my case.”

“I was just asking.”

“Just leave it, alright?”

“Okay, okay.” They lapsed into silence and Kirsch side-eyed her before nudging her lightly with his shoulder. “Guess who’s-”

“Have you talked to your department about me playing Quidditch?” Sasha asked in a run-on question, the words bursting out of her like a dam breaking.

Kirsch froze, staring at her with a slightly horrified expression, but she took it completely the wrong way, launching into a speech that sounded practiced.

“I know you’re only a liaison but I think if you get me in the room with one of the coaches I can show them what I can do and they’ll let me play. I mean, Thatch says I’m really good, and I’m better than the twins, and I really think they’ll let me. I just... I _suck_ at school, and I don’t want to end up serving customers in some shitty cafe for the rest of my life.” She eyed Kirsch defiantly. “I’m better than that.” She blinked and something faltered behind her eyes. “Aren’t I?”

“You are. You totally are, Sash,” he reassured. (Fuck, why did he have to do this?) “But, I don’t think the Quidditch thing is going to happen.”

“What do you mean?”

“Look, wizards and witches are kind of... They’re weird about this kind of stuff.”

“But I’m _good_ , Brodes. I’m  _so good_.”

“I know you are.”

“If they just let me-”

He pulled her into a hug, knowing that if she kept talking, he wouldn’t be able to stand it. He could barely right now, seeing her heart break, her passion for something that she wouldn’t be able to do.

It was like losing his arm all over again.

He felt her start to cry against his shoulder and steeled himself as much as he could from the tears rushing up his throat.

\---

Danny opened the door to her apartment and felt a wave of warmth sweep over her from the inside of the loft. Her shoulders started to relax as she walked in and found Kirsch stirring a saucepan, dipping his finger into the sauce and tasting it. He spun around when he heard to door opening, his finger still in his mouth, and he burst into a wide smile when he saw her.

The dishes from before had disappeared off the kitchen island, the clothes in the bedroom were now neatly put away or in the incredibly full laundry hamper, and the radio was filling the loft with classical music.

“Hey beautiful, good to have you home.”

Danny felt the tight knot in her stomach start to unwind and her heart actually felt like it had skipped a beat, and the utter cliché grossness of it all almost made her want to slap herself.

Instead, she walked over to him and let him hold her. He smelled like sandalwood, and homemade tomato sauce, and clean linen, and home.

“Long week?”

She sighed into him. “The longest.”

He turned her around slowly and swept aside her hair, his hands starting to work on loosening up the knots in her muscle.

“How was yours?”

She felt him tense up, but his hands didn’t stop on her shoulders.

She searched her mind, pushing aside the past week of crappy food, sleeping in a tent, and tracking a criminal ring. “Is this about Sasha?”

He sighed as his hands travelled down from her shoulders along her spine. “There’s no way they’re letting her play Quidditch.”

“Did my dad say anything?”

His hands reached her lower back and he absently pressed a kiss to the nape of her neck. “He doesn’t think squibs or non-magicals should compete professionally.” His disappointment was thick in his tone, and it slowed his hands. “Oh, and he wants to have us over for dinner.”

Danny spun around, out of Kirsch’s hands, and put her arms up on his shoulders, leaning forward to touch her forehead to his. “I’m sorry, babe.”

He shrugged and stared off to the side in a way that made it obvious that it wasn’t okay, even as he said that it was.

She used her fingernails to scratch a pattern into the base of his hairline, circles that looped and interlocked, and grew and shrank with their shared breathing.

“She’ll be okay.”

Kirsch sighed forlornly, his breath ghosting over Danny’s face. “I hope so.”

\---

Carmilla had been waiting for Laura to get home for two hours by the time she finally did. The sound of the Knight Bus was unmistakeable, followed by Laura’s stumbling steps and finally her key rattling in the door. Carmilla grew impatient after a few seconds and got up and opened the door for her.

Laura was bent over in front of the door, at eye level with the lock, and she looked up at Carmilla slowly, her eyes swimming as she did.

“Baby!” She stood up straight and threw her arms wide open. She fell forward and Carmilla caught her with a grunt, pulling her into the house and kicking the door shut after her.

“Did you have a good night?” Carmilla’s tone had a bite, the taste of bitterness filling her mouth. Laura tilted her head up to Carmilla sloppily and smiled.

“Yes,” she giggled and tried to kiss Carmilla but her aim was off, only catching the corner of her lips. “How was your night, Carm-sexy?”

“It was...” Carmilla had managed to get Laura to the bedroom and sat her down on the bed, making sure she was steady enough before going to fetch her pyjamas. “You said we could talk.”

“Totally, totally.” Laura nodded so hard that she almost fell to her side. Carmilla caught her and set about helping her get changed, mumbling for her to hold her arms up, which she did with a clumsy enthusiasm. “What did you want to talk about?”

“I...” Carmilla’s jaw tensed. She got onto her knees and pulled Laura onto her feet in front of her, getting her to step out of her pants. She glanced up at Laura, whose eyelids kept drooping shut. Her gaze dropped back down to the floor and she did her best to pack away the speech she’d been saying in her head over and over. An impatient petulance rose up her spine, but she shoved it as far away as she could.

She held the track pants down for Laura, guiding her feet into them one leg at a time. When she pulled them up, standing at the same time, Laura gave her the same unfocused smile and Carmilla forced herself to see it as endearing rather than frustrating.

“I love you so much,” Laura mumbled. “I’m so happy we’re getting married.”

The words did some to help calm Carmilla’s annoyance, but the slurring delivery made Carmilla feel like she was lying when she replied, “Me too.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you want to get any extras about this story then follow me on tumblr at [churchofyourcurves](churchofyourcurves.tumblr.com) or check out the tag #carmilla hp au
> 
> I also have some behind the scenes shorts of stuff that I didn't put into the main story for whatever reason, as well as prompts that people have sent me. Check them out [here](http://churchofyourcurves.tumblr.com/tagged/carmilla-hp-au-bts) or take a look at the tag #carmilla hp au bts


	7. The Polyjuice Potion

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> For old mate who somehow dragged herself onto a plane this morning despite having probably replaced her liver with a bottle of whiskey.
> 
> This is largely unedited my apologies for any mistakes I am still drunk from last night.

**6 months, 8 days**

Laura groaned and covered her face. How much did she have to drink last night? Eric kept ordering shots so that he would have enough liquid courage to talk to Penny and insisting that Laura do them with him. She couldn’t remember if he actually managed to have a conversation with her that extended beyond awkward small talk. She remembered him loudly confessing that he had-

Her hand drifted to the other side of the bed. Empty.

Oh. Oh no.

Carmilla had messaged her asking if they could talk, and she had completely forgotten about it because Eric had ordered some cocktail that was half fire and half ice. Laura tried to remember what time she got back, and what she said to Carm when she had gotten home, but it was blank. How did she even get home?

Her pMessage alert went off and she let out a soft groan, there was no way she was getting out of bed to get that.

It went off again.

And once more.

“Goddamn it,” Laura muttered under her breath. She turned her head and blinked, focusing her eyes on her bedside table where she usually kept it. It wasn’t there, which was weird. She looked around the room as much as she could without moving her head, and figured out that it was probably still in her jacket from last night, which was...

Hanging on a chair against the wall. Two metres away. Two metres had never seemed so far before.

The notification sound dinged again.

Laura let out a frustrated grunt and half-rolled herself off the bed, walking over to the chair with heavy footfalls, fishing through the pockets for her parchment and wand, and dropping back into bed with a relieved sigh. She opened up the parchment and flicked through the messages with her wand.

 

> _Eric Harker: What the fuck happened last night? I’m at Peggy’s place, I woke up on her couch._
> 
> _Eric Harker: Did something happen between us? Did you see something happen?_
> 
> _Eric Harker: Hollis._
> 
> _Eric Harker: Seriously, I need help, I can’t remember what happened._
> 
> _Eric Harker: HOLLIS, ANSWER ME!_

Laura would have been amused if her head wasn’t so incredibly painful right now and she didn’t feel gross and nauseous. She tapped the tip of her wand to the parchment and sent back a quick message:

> _Laura Hollis: Calm down, Harker. I didn’t see anything happen between you two, maybe she just took you back to her place to take care of you? How are you not incredibly hungover right now?_

There was a short pause and then the reply formed. 

> _Eric Harker: Because, unlike some people, I actually took my Hangover Preventative Draught._

Laura rolled her eyes, which made her forehead ache. 

> _Laura Hollis: It hasn’t even been approved by the MFDA, last time you took it you ended up throwing up water for four hours._
> 
> _Eric Harker: Well, I feel fine now, so whatever._
> 
> _Laura Hollis: What are you going to do about the Peggy thing?_
> 
> _Eric Harker: Christ, I don’t know. Should I slip out before she’s up?_
> 
> _Laura Hollis: That’s a horrible idea._
> 
> _Eric Harker: Come up with a better one then._

Laura was thinking of another option when Carmilla walked into the bedroom, wearing a thin dressing robe and holding a steaming mug of tea. She started at the sight of Laura using her parchment and something crossed her face, but it was gone before Laura could decipher it.

“You’re awake,” Carmilla stated and something in her tone made Laura’s stomach flip uncomfortably.

“Yeah,” Laura replied weakly. She gestured towards the parchment. “Eric woke up at Peggy’s house.”

Carmilla cast an uncaring glance at the parchment as she stood next to the bed. “Right.”

Laura felt like she’d said completely the wrong thing. She frantically searched her mind for why Carmilla would be unhappy like this but she came up empty. So, she filled the silence with the most of a smile she could manage and gestured to the mug. “Is that for me?”

Carmilla looked down at the mug as if she’d forgotten about it. She held it forward robotically, and Laura sat up to accept it. Her eyes begged Carmilla to please, please let them be okay, because the way things were right now made her feel beyond uncomfortable.

She managed to get one sip into the tea before asking, “Did I say something last night?”

“Like what?”

“I...” Laura shrank under Carmilla’s steady gaze. “I don’t know. I was really drunk.”

“I noticed.”

Laura felt the familiar, panicky buzz spread through her chest. She set the mug down on the bedside table and mumbled that she should take a shower because she felt gross. She escaped to the ensuite and closed the door behind her as Carmilla sat down on the bed in the spot she’d just left.

Laura leaned against the closed door and shut her eyes, letting herself slide down it until she was sitting on the floor. She covered her eyes with her hands and counted out her breaths.

Fifteen minutes later she felt somewhat better, thanks to a blisteringly hot shower. When she went back into the bedroom Carmilla hadn’t moved, staring forward unseeingly as she sat on the bed. Laura hesitated, not sure what to say or do, before opting instead for going over to their walk-in robe and getting dressed out of Carmilla’s sight.

She took longer than she usually did and Carmilla must have noticed because she called out in a strained voice, “Laura?”

Laura steadied herself before walking into the bedroom. Carmilla was still in the same spot, still staring at the same place, but her shoulders were somehow more tense than before. The moment seemed frozen in place, Laura hardly dared to breathe, and then Carmilla turned to her.

“We need to talk.”

Laura took in a quick breath and then nodded and walked over, sitting down next to Carmilla but making sure to leave a space between them. “Okay.”

\---

A clod of dirt hit John Lawrence on the shoulder as he leaned against the doorway of the Lawrence Quidditch practice area. He let out a disgusted sound and turned around to see Sasha Kirsch walking towards him. His snarl turned into a broad smile. “S, been a while.”

“Ma said I couldn’t come over until I finished my A levels.”

“Oh!” The other Lawrence twin, Tim, popped his head up from behind the hood of the car they’d parked on the field, a wand in his hands. “I know what A levels are, they’re exams,” he stated proudly.

“Gold star, bro.”

He grinned at her and flipped his long auburn fringe out of his pale blue eyes. His hair, while long enough to hang in his eyes at the front, was shorn short at the back, and it was a complete contrast to his twin’s completely shaved head and ever present, ragged Slytherin-green beanie.

Sasha walked over to the car and peered around the hood. “What are you doing?”

“The car’s been acting up. I’m just testing out some of the charms.” He tucked his wand into his back pocket and wiped his oil-blackened hands off on his pants, jumping forward to give Sasha a hug. “How are you doing, Sashes?”

She made a vague noise and crossed her arms across her chest.

“Whassamatter?” John sat down on the wooden trunk by the wall, stretching his legs out in front of him and crossing his ankles over each other. “Was it the A whatevers?”

“No. I mean, sort of...” She frowned and shook her head. “Brody, he...”

“Is it about Quidditch?” Tim asked.

She looked over at him and that was enough of an answer. He sighed heavily and pulled her into another hug, tucking her under his chin. (The twins were the only ones who made her look short - they absolutely towered over the entire Lawrence-Kirsch clan.) “I’m sorry, Sash. If I could swap places with you I would.”

She sighed into his chest.

There was a loud clap from next to them and they both looked over at John, who was beaming like something had just occurred to him. “That’s it.”

“What’s it?”

“You two”—he gestured between them—“swap places.”

“Dude, what are you talking about?” Sasha asked, pulling away from Tim and running a hand through her pixie-short hair.

“Well, not so much swap, but you know, you be Tim.” He considered it and then added, “Or me, I guess. Depends who you’d rather look like.”

“You’re twins, doofus,” Sasha pointed out with an eye roll.

Tim’s focus was more on what John was suggesting though, and he stepped forward with a raised eyebrow. “Are you talking about...?”

John nodded enthusiastically. “You know what I’m talking about, brother.”

“Uh, hi!” Sasha gave a small, sarcastic wave, trying to get their attention. “ _I_ don’t know what you’re talking about.”

The twins shared a silent conversation with each other until finally Tim turned to her. “There’s this potion...”

\---

“So, what did you want to talk about?”

Carmilla and Laura had been sitting in silence for what felt like hours, but was probably more like fifteen minutes. Laura’s hangover was like a steel spike between her eyes, but she was really trying to ignore it so that she could give Carmilla what she needed.

But if she could start talking soon, that would be nice.

“Us.”

Laura felt like the bottom of her stomach had fallen out. “Oh,” she said softly.

“No, it’s not...” Carmilla let out a frustrated sound, but she looked more frustrated at herself than anything else. “It’s not bad. I mean, I don’t think it is.”

“Are you okay?” Laura asked gently.

“Yeah,” Carmilla sighed. “It’s hard. To talk about stuff, you know?”

Laura definitely knew.

Carmilla cleared her throat and turned her body so that she was facing Laura front on. Laura mirrored her movement and waited, trying to give Carmilla as much patience as she could.

Finally, Carmilla said, “I don’t want to fight.”

“Why would we fight?”

“I just...” Carmilla dropped her eyes down to her lap and finished lamely, “I don’t want to.”

“Okay.”

Carmilla slowly lifted her gaze back to Laura, and Laura wished there was some way to comfort her, to take the pain from her eyes. She just wanted to fix it.

“I feel like I disappoint you.”

“Carm, baby-”

“Please,” Carmilla interrupted, “let me finish.”

Laura shut her mouth and nodded.

“After I quit Hogwarts,” Carmilla started and Laura winced, “the fact that I still haven’t gotten a job, that I just stay at home and read and paint and... Every day when you get home, I feel your disappointment.”

Laura wanted to lie, wanted to bury the truth so deep down that it didn’t exist, that would be so much easier. But the fact that Carmilla had been so honest stopped her; the vulnerability it had taken...

“Sometimes,” Laura admitted and the pain that tore through Carmilla’s face felt like her own. “It’s not... I’m just worried about you. I don’t know if you’re happy with...” She gestured around them, as if using fewer words would stop from hurting Carmilla further.

“You’re worried about me,” Carmilla echoed, and her tone made it clear that she hadn’t taken to the sympathy well. “Do you realise how patronising you sound?”

Laura went to protest but Carmilla stood up, her voice rising as she continued, “I don’t need someone who’s going to look at the way I live my life and judge me for it.”

“I’m not judging-”

“You are!” Carmilla exploded. “You don’t get it do you, Laura? I failed!” she exclaimed, gesturing at herself emphatically. “I fucked up. I got that stupid job I didn’t want, and I _sucked_ at it. Do you know what it feels like to mess something up that you don’t even want in the first place?”

Carmilla started to pace the bedroom, her hand running through her hair. She stopped mid-step and turned back to Laura. “The worst part is, I _tried_. I tried and I failed, and what the hell else am I meant to do with myself?” The angry energy sapped out of her, her body drooping. “The only thing I’m good at is reading, and saying shitty sarcastic things.”

Laura was shocked by the amount of emotion that had poured out of Carmilla. She hadn’t seen her this riled up about anything in a very long time, and it was almost a relief to see it again. She hesitated, not sure if Carmilla was done yet, but after a moment she stood and walked over to her.

“That’s not the only thing you’re good at,” she said with a suggestive lilt in her tone.

Carmilla barked a laugh roughly and looked over to the side, not ready to look directly at Laura yet.

“I’m sorry,” Laura apologised, reaching forward and lightly touching Carmilla’s hand. “Bad joke. Trying to lighten the mood, y’know?”

“I know.” Carmilla let out a long breath and offered her a broken smile. “Thanks cupcake.”

Laura lifted her hand to Carmilla’s face, but didn’t touch her. Carmilla leaned into it, bumping Laura’s hand with her cheek.

“Thank you for telling me,” Laura finally said.

“I’m sorry I yelled.”

“It’s okay,” Laura whispered as she stared at Carmilla with naked affection. “We’ll figure this out together, okay?”

Carmilla swallowed down the nervous panic that spiked through her body at the idea, but she nodded. “Okay.”

“Okay,” Laura repeated. “Now, I’m not trying to like change the subject but I could r _eall_ y go for some breakfast. Something super greasy and disgusting.”

Carmilla’s smile was more genuine this time, gentle and slight. “I think we can manage that.”

\---

Sasha stepped in front of the mirror and stared at herself. Instead of the short, messy brunette hair she now had a shaved head, with the roots of auburn hair speckled across her scalp. Her skin was paler and a smattering of freckles was painted across the bridge of her nose. Her eyes were no longer deep green, they were now a pale blue and under bushy auburn eyebrows.

She was taller, her hands were bigger, far bigger, and she- yep, different set of genitals. She had changed into a set of John’s clothes before drinking the Polyjuice potion, which was a good thing because she definitely would have ruined her clothes with John’s broad shoulders. She squeezed her left bicep and was moderately impressed with the steel of the muscle she found there.

“Hey, Sash, how’d it go?” LaFontaine asked from outside the bathroom.

“Yeah, it-” Sasha stopped, surprised at the deepness of the voice that came out of her. She clapped a hand over her voicebox and felt the Adam’s apple there. Weird. “It’s good.”

She opened the door and presented herself with a shrug to the twins and LaF. They’d agreed to go to LaFontaine for the potion given that LaF was the best potion-brewer that they all knew and that they were still carrying some guilt from how they’d acted last year.

It had taken a lot of convincing to get LaFontaine to agree (and maybe more than a little guilt tripping), but they finally allowed to let Sasha test out some of their weaker batch that would wear off after an hour. When it came to adding John’s hair to the potion, LaFontaine had stared at his shaved head for a long beat before reaching forward to pluck out one of his eyebrows and dropping it into the potion.

“Damn, dude.” John walked up to her and examined her closely. “That’s trippy.” He grabbed her shirt and lifted it up to show her stomach, making her step back and smack his hand away.

“What the fuck, John?”

“I’m sorry! I just wanted to check if you had my birthmark.”

Sasha scowled at him. “Use your words not your hands, jerk.”

She lifted up the shirt herself, showing a small birthmark the shape of Africa just above her hip.

He nodded. “Nice.”

Tim eyed Sasha, looking torn about the sight of her as his twin brother. “This is really weird.”

“If you get caught...” LaFontaine trailed off, looking terrified by the concept.

Sasha had a flash of the cell in Azkaban, the sound of stone scraping against stone. She bit the inside of her cheek hard. “I won’t.”

“Oh!” John pulled something out of his back pocket and held it towards Sasha. It was a brand new beanie, green as always. “It gets cold.”

Sasha took the beanie from him and ran her hands over the soft wool. “Thanks, Jay.” She pulled it onto her head and grinned at the three redheads in front of her. “Who wants to play some Quidditch?”

Later, when Sasha looked like herself again, she and John were sitting in the open windowsill, and she asked him if he was actually okay with her pretending to be him.

He shrugged and nodded. “Why wouldn’t I be?”

“You always went on about playing Quidditch professionally.”

“Yeah,” he sighed as he flicked his butterfly knife between his fingers - Kirsch had given it to him for his 18th birthday, earning a smack from Danny and a huge hug from John. “But I was never that good at it. I mean, I only got captain of the Slytherin team because of my last name.”

Sasha swallowed down the reassuring platitude that ached to jump off her tongue - John hated it when people tried to lie for his sake.

“I’m not like you.” He looked at her out of the corner of his eye and offered her a sad smile. “All my life Dad wanted me to play professional Quidditch. I’ve been practicing for it since I started walking. But I haven’t got it - that thing. The thing that you have.” He shook his head and the knife continued to dance between his fingers. “I could practice every day for the next five years and I’d probably only make reserve. I don’t want that.” He grimaced bitterly. “I don’t want my dad’s career.”

Sasha watched him silently as he stared at forward and swallowed. “You have a shot. A real shot. This way you get to play, I get to make my dad proud, and Puddlemere might finally win the cup again.”

Sasha smiled wryly. “I’m not promising anything.”

He turned to her, his eyes serious. “S, _no_ one flies like you. Not even Brodes. You’re gonna change the whole damn game.”

Sasha basked in the compliment for a moment before bumping her shoulder against his and corrected him, “Technically you will.”

He didn’t lighten up though, just got more introspective as he looked back towards the treeline of the Lawrence forest. “I wish it could be you.”

“Yeah,” she agreed, ”but then I wouldn’t know about the mole on your ass.”

He turned back to her, mouth open in mock disbelief. “Sasha Kirsch, did you check me out in the nude?” She gave him a toothy grin and he elbowed her in the side. “ _Dude_.”

Sasha shrugged. “Su casa es mi casa.”

“I don’t know what that means, but it better be ‘I’m not going to check out John’s generously lent out body anymore’.”

“I do have to take showers, you know.”

His nose screwed up. “Yeah, but you’re like a sister to me, I don’t want to know you’ve seen me naked.”

She rolled her eyes. “It’s not because I want to shag you, you moron.”

“Who’s shagging who?” Tim joined them, freshly showered and flicking his damp hair out of his eyes.

John immediately replied emphatically, “No one!”

Sasha snickered at the appalled look on John’s face and confirmed, “No one.”

Tim looked between the two of them doubtfully as he went over to sit on Sasha’s other side. She wrapped her arms around either twin, pulling them down to her height and against her. “I love you, dweebs.”

They chorused their replies back.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you want to get any extras about this story then follow me on tumblr at [churchofyourcurves](churchofyourcurves.tumblr.com) or check out the tag #carmilla hp au
> 
> I also have some behind the scenes shorts of stuff that I didn't put into the main story for whatever reason, as well as prompts that people have sent me. Check them out [here](http://churchofyourcurves.tumblr.com/tagged/carmilla-hp-au-bts) or take a look at the tag #carmilla hp au bts


	8. The Engagement Party

**6 months**

Danny stared at the empty plate, scowling at the streak of leftover egg yolk. She’d just had to throw her breakfast out because the smell of the eggs made her retch in the sink. This was the third time this week. With a sigh she started to clean up the sink and plate.

She should see a healer, but she also really didn’t want to. Healers always started talking about her tension and how it was blocking her and telling her that she should do breathing exercises. She hated breathing exercises. Her breathing was just fine, otherwise she’d be dead.

Kirsch walked into the loft from the bathroom, ruffling his hair dry as he started getting his things together for the day. His Saturdays were usually the busiest day of the week for him, with a few different Quidditch matches scheduled and him having to attend most, if not all, of them.

“I had to use your conditioner and now I smell like you,” Kirsch said as he grabbed his wallet off the counter and pecked Danny on the cheek.

“Do you have a problem with how I smell?”

“No!” he replied. “You smell delicious. Like the woods on a rainy day. But like clean instead of all damp and mossy.”

“So it’s just too girly for you?” Danny fired back.

“What?” Kirsch frowned in confusion. “Babe, no! It’ll just mean I won’t be able to concentrate cos I’ll be thinking about you all day.”

Danny rolled her eyes and smiled, despite herself. She backhanded Kirsch lightly on the chest and then pulled him in for a kiss. “Sorry. I’ve been really sensitive lately.”

“Yeah I noticed.” Kirsch gave her shoulders a quick rub and continued to get ready for work. “You want me to pick up some chocolate after work?”

“No, I’m not...” Danny frowned, thinking hard.

Kirsch grabbed his messenger bag from the coat rack and his keys from the hook by the door. “You okay, babe?”

“Kirsch.”

Kirsch turned around and, at Danny’s furrowed brow and absent hand on her stomach, he walked back over to her. “What’s wrong?”

“I think I might be pregnant,” she whispered. Then she fainted.

\---

Laura blew up a silver balloon and considered it as she knotted the end. “Do you think balloons are too much?”

They were in the atrium area of their home, which they had turned into a far larger room, thanks to the magical nature of the house. Now it was closer to the size of a hall, not excessively large, but large enough to fit all the people that they’d invited to their engagement party. There was a generously sized buffet table down one end of the room - thanks to a catering company who had dropped by that morning and would be by afterwards to clear up - and a long dining table in the centre of the room with a ridiculous amount of chairs around it.

Carmilla was sitting in one of the chairs now, with her feet up on another chair, trying to read her new book. She batted one of the balloons away from her before returning to reading. “Do you really want the answer to that?” she asked.

Laura turned to Carmilla. “Yes?” Carmilla looked at her over her book, and Laura amended, “No.”

“Why do we have to throw an engagement party anyway?” Carmilla asked as she turned the page of her book.

“To celebrate our relationship with the people we love.”

“Isn’t that what the wedding’s for?” Carmilla pointed out.

Laura hesitated, Carmilla had a point. She searched for an answer and finally came up with, “We get presents though.”

Carmilla tilted her head. “Do we? Is that a thing?”

Laura considered it as she tied a ribbon to the balloon she just blew up. “I don’t actually know.” She sighed and surveyed the five balloons that had taken her twenty minutes to do. “Are you going to help?”

Carmilla peered over her book at the lacklustre collection of balloons. She put her book down, got her wand out, and pointed it at the bag of remaining balloons. They all flew up into the air and snapped to attention. She flicked her wand, filling them up simultaneously, and once they were blown up enough, she tied them all off with a circle motion of her wrist. With them finished she let them drift to the ceiling, which they did in a slow motion, bumping lightly against each other.

She raised an eyebrow at Laura, who gave her a look. “I didn’t mean like that.”

“Hey, it’s done isn’t it?” Carmilla picked her book back up. “You can do the ribbons though, only fair.” She glanced back up at Laura and winked at her.

Laura swatted one of the balloons at her, and Carmilla deflected it with her book.

The doorbell rang and Laura and Carmilla shared a look - it was way too early for people to start arriving - and Laura opened the front door to LaFontaine and Perry. LaF was holding a large present wrapped in silver paper, while Perry was holding a plate of baked goods.

“Good morning!” Perry chirped as she strode into the room. “We thought we’d come early and help you get things ready.” She walked over to the catering table and eyed the food on it, frowning as she made a small sound in the back of her throat and tried to shuffle some of the plates around to make room for her dessert plate. After some effort, she managed to clear enough space and slotted her plate in, and, although the lip of the plate was unevenly perched on top of some of the other plates, she was satisfied with the result, brushing her hands off as she walked back over to the others.

“So, what can we help with?”

\---

There was a knock on the bathroom door and then a hesitant, “Babe?”

Danny was sitting on top of the closed toilet seat, leaning forward with her elbows on her knees and her head in her hands. She really didn’t want to deal with this right now. Merlin, she didn’t want to deal with this. It was almost the two-year anniversary, and she didn’t want to have this happen.

Not now.

The pregnancy test that she’d left on the lip of the sink chirped and a tiny baby sprung out of it, dancing in a way that babies definitely didn’t have the coordination to do.

When Danny had regained consciousness Kirsch had thrown a slew of concerned questions her way, as well as a pregnancy test. She hadn’t asked why he had a pregnancy test, or where he’d gotten it from, just accepted it and locked herself in the bathroom.

She stared at the dancing baby for a moment longer before reaching forward to knock it into the wastebasket and dropping her head back into her hands.

“Danny?” he asked again. He was standing right outside the door and Danny buried the urge to yell at him to leave her alone. She reminded herself that he wasn’t doing anything wrong, he was just worried. She stood and opened the door to Kirsch staring at her with wide eyes. He glanced at the bathroom behind her, as if it would hold some answer to his questions.

“Are you-?”

She didn’t know if he would say ‘okay’ or ‘pregnant’, so she just nodded and let him take it how he would.

“I can take today off,” he offered. His eyes were still searching her face, trying to pull apart her expression, but she refused to let him, pushing her hair in front of her face and looking off to the side.

“No, it’s okay.” She looked back at him and put a hand on his arm, hoping that the physical contact would help reassure him. “You should go to work, I’ll go to this party thing and I’ll see you later on.”

For a moment Kirsch looked like he was going to argue the point, but it passed and he nodded. (Maybe this pregnancy thing would be good for winning arguments, Danny thought.)

“If you need anything…”

She offered him a smile, as honest of a smile as she could, and leaned up to kiss him. After she pulled away from the kiss she let herself sink into a hug with him, tucking her face into where his shoulder met his neck.

“We’ll talk about this tonight,” Danny promised, her lips brushing against Kirsch’s skin. She felt him relax with the promise and she closed her eyes, hoping that she could keep it.

\---

“You look like shit.”

Danny glowered at Carmilla from the doorstep. “Charming.” She shoved the present forward into Carmilla’s hands and strode into the house.

“Where’s the other one?” Carmilla asked as she put the present aside on the table.

“He’s working.” Danny eyed the mountain of balloons around the room. “Nice decorations.”

“All about celebrating my relationship with the people I love,” Carmilla recited.

“How are things?” Danny asked, but the intention behind the casual nature of her words was clear in the way she leaned forward and held eye contact with Carmilla.

Carmilla raised an eyebrow and gestured around them. “Good enough for balloons.”

When Danny just stared off to the side without responding, Carmilla studied her closer. “Are you okay, Big Red?”

“Yeah, I…” Danny finally looked back at Carmilla. “Fine.”

Carmilla wasn’t convinced, but before she could probe any further, Laura came over and greeted Danny with a sunny smile and tight embrace, and was soon joined by the ginger twins. Then, Laura’s dad insisted on Carmilla showing him the changes they’d made the library since he’d been there last.

The party went on later than expected and was a fair success. Except for the twins and Sasha raiding the champagne stash and getting loudly drunk - and then being loudly told off by Danny, to the point where her dad intervened and steered her away from the swaying eighteen year olds.

Laura was stuck into a debate with Eric and LaFontaine about the role that the media should play in moderating the government, when she looked over and saw Carmilla sitting alone in the far corner with a glass of red wine. Half of the attendees had already left the party, leaving the room feeling emptier, especially by Carmilla’s section of the room.

Laura bit her lip and put a hand on LaF’s arm, excusing herself.

Carmilla sensed her attention and offered her a small smile over the lip of her glass as Laura made her way over and sat down next to her.

“Hey.”

“Hey, cupcake.” Something in Carmilla’s voice was weary, but not in a bad way.

“It’s been a long day.”

Carmilla hummed and took a sip from her glass.

Laura leaned over and whispered conspiratorially, “Do you want me to kick everyone out?”

Carmilla chuckled, low in her throat, and her smile grew. “No, it’s okay.”

“Thanks, you know, for doing this for me.”

Carmilla glanced at her out of the corner of her eye and leaned back, slinging an arm around Laura’s shoulders and kissing her on her neck. Laura’s breath stuttered at the intimacy of the action as Carmilla let her lips linger as she murmured, “I actually had fun.”

“You had fun,” Laura repeated, trying to judge whether Carmilla was saying it for her sake or not.

“Yeah.” Carmilla shrugged as she leaned back in her chair. “I’m not _entirely_ misanthropic, cupcake.”

“You aren’t?” Laura asked teasingly.

Carmilla smirked and finished off her wine glass. “Blue moon and all that.”

There was a knock at the front door and Laura kissed Carmilla on the temple before jumping up to answer it. Once she opened it she squealed and launched herself at Kirsch, who looked exhausted but happy to see her.

On the other side of the room Danny perked up at the sight of him, and once Kirsch was done congratulating Laura on the engagement he went to her and embraced her. Carmilla watched as they quietly exchanged words. Something had been off about the redhead all night, but she finally seemed to relax in Kirsch’s presence.

Perry sat down next to Carmilla and folded her hands in her lap. “Did you have fun, Carmilla?”

Carmilla side-eyed her as she swirled her wine in her glass and took a sip of it. “Sure, Red.”

“Is there anything you need? Anything I can do?”

Carmilla considered Perry for a moment. “You know that you don’t have to be the host of every party you go to, right?”

Perry sniffed. “Obviously,” she replied, “but I just want to make sure that you’re having a good time. This _is_ your party.”

“Not mine.” Carmilla shook her head and gestured with her glass to where Laura was now talking to her dad and Thatcher Lawrence. “It’s hers.”

“It’s both of yours.”

“Come on, Red,” Carmilla scoffed, “how many of these people do you think belong to my side of the church?”

“I’m on your side,” Perry pointed out.

Carmilla raised an eyebrow, but just shook her head and said, “If you say so.”

“Carmilla-” Perry leaned forward and put a hand on her knee “-I know that we don’t see each other regularly, and I know that I’m not the first person you’d call if you wanted company, but... I consider you a close friend.”

There was a long silence as Carmilla regarded her. Finally, she said, “Practicing for the wedding speech already, Red?”

Perry gave her a knowing smile and Carmilla rolled her eyes.

“Also, I want you to know that if you want to, we could have dinner some time.”

Carmilla’s eyebrows rose.

“If you want to,” Perry added. At Carmilla’s continued silence she admitted, “I don’t have an abundance of friends.”

“What happened to Lola Perry, Hufflepuff Head Girl?”

“High school was a long time ago, Carmilla.”

Carmilla made a small sound in the back of her throat. “You’re telling me.”

Perry smoothed out her pants, her movements riddled with nerves.

“Chill, Red, we can do dinner,” Carmilla said. “You aren’t the worst person to be around.”

“I’m pleased to see that your skill at complimenting has improved,” Perry replied as her hands stopped working at the non-existent creases on her dress pants.

Carmilla snickered into her wine and they shared a smile.

Across the room, Kirsch’s hand rested comfortingly on the small of Danny’s back. “Did you want to go?” he asked.

“No,” she replied. “Let’s stay a little while longer.” There was a silent plea behind her words and Kirsch seemed to understand as he nodded and kissed her on her temple, turning his body to her in a way that made her feel protected in such an intimate way that her heart opened to him.

His attention returned to the room around them and the dwindling party. “Do you think I should try out my party trick?”

“Don’t you dare.”

He grinned and she tugged him down into a kiss to stop his stupid smirk from getting too big.

After the catering company had come by to clean everything up and the family members had gone home, the group of high school friends were left as Carmilla changed the room to a much more normal size for the six of them and the dining table was charmed back to its normal size.

“Thanks for coming,” Laura thanked them all for the millionth time.

“Little L, chill, sit down,” Kirsch ordered as he rooted through what was left of the bottled drinks in a tub by the wall. “Who wants a drink?”

Everyone agreed on another one and he stared at the collection of raised hands before deciding to just grab the whole tub and bring it over to the table, dropping it onto the tabletop with a thud and passing everyone their drink of choice out of it. After handing them all out, he dropped the tub down onto the floor and sat next to it, opening his Butterbeer and taking a generous sip of it.

Danny gave back the soda he’d given her that needed a bottle opener and he used his tattooed hand to open it up. The tattoo was a Quidditch pitch, like it usually was on Saturdays, but the clouds that floated by had all taken certain shapes that Carmilla regarded curiously. Kirsch noticed her attention and the clouds quickly turned into question marks.

Instead of asking what that was about, Carmilla tuned back into the conversation between Laura, Perry and LaF.

“You did an amazing job,” Perry gushed. “Truly.”

“Oh it was nothing,” Laura said, waving her off. “The caterers did most of it.”

“Hey, credit where credit’s due, Hollis,” LaF insisted. “You did good.”

Laura blushed under all the attention. “Well, if the wedding goes this well then that would be great.”

“How fancy are you planning on going for the wedding?”

 _Ugh_. Carmilla tuned back out of their conversation. Not that she wasn’t invested in the wedding, but she’d heard Laura have this conversation a thousand times tonight, how Laura managed to make it sound fresh each time was a miracle.

“I’ll make an appointment tomorrow,” Danny told Kirsch and he nodded.

“Do you want me to come?”

“Do you want to?” she asked in reply.

“You know I do, but it’s up to you, babe.”

Danny paused and then nodded. “Yeah, come.”

“You sure?”

Carmilla stopped listening to their conversation, which was too cryptic and personal to interest her. Instead, she just looked around the table at all the people who had once been her closest friends, the people who had risked their lives for her, and she for them. A lot of time had passed since then, and she could feel it, but at the same time, it felt like no time had passed at all.

The dichotomy had put a strain on their interactions, but it was starting to ease slowly. They probably wouldn’t get back to the same place they had been before (which was a good thing, because she could do without all the life risking), but it felt like they could get somewhere.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you want to get any extras about this story then follow me on tumblr at [churchofyourcurves](churchofyourcurves.tumblr.com) or check out the tag #carmilla hp au
> 
> I also have some behind the scenes shorts of stuff that I didn't put into the main story for whatever reason, as well as prompts that people have sent me. Check them out [here](http://churchofyourcurves.tumblr.com/tagged/carmilla-hp-au-bts) or take a look at the tag #carmilla hp au bts


	9. The Day

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter is probably the most obvious when it comes to me having cut down the story. This is officially the end of Act 1, where originally I may have taken longer with it, but hopefully you enjoy it regardless.

**0 days**

Carmilla scowled over the mountain of sample wedding cake boxes at Danny. The stack was so tall that she could barely see over them, but she could definitely still scowl. “Why am I carrying all of these?”

“Because I am insanely pregnant and they’re _your_ cakes,” Danny pointed out.

Carmilla huffed and shuffled them onto one hand so that she could inch out her wand and charmed the stack to hover by her side instead. Carmilla appraised Danny as she waddled—like, actually _waddled—_ to the counter of the florist. “You are massive.”

Danny shot her a look over the blooming flowers that kept changing colours. “And you’re an asshole.” She approached the counter and smiled at the person working behind it. “Hi, I’m here to confirm the order for the Hollis-Karnstein wedding.”

Carmilla drifted off, wedding cake samples in tow, as she examined all the different magical plant and flower strains, from the Gardenias that shot off mini fireworks to the Orchids that twittered tunes at her. The whole interior was practically pulsing with life; greenery covered the wooden tables and dangled down from the ceiling, seemingly curving towards Carmilla as she passed it.

Carmilla was studying the Foxgloves when Danny finished at the counter and collected her from the corner, insisting that they had plenty more place to visit.

Carmilla groaned. “You minus the detective gig is a total pain in my ass, have I told you that?”

“Well,” Danny said as they exited the florist, “it’s not like I get a choice. Apparently chasing down criminals while being pregnant is a no-no.”

“Surprising.”

Danny just hummed in response as they walked down Somnium Avenue with the cakes in tow.

Sensing the tension coming off the redhead, Carmilla asked, “So if you go into Animagus form would it still be a human or would it turn into a dog? Or like some human-dog hybrid?”

“Didn’t you get registered?” Danny asked. “They explain that.”

“As if I read the pamphlet,” Carmilla scoffed. Off Danny’s look she shrugged. “What? Not like I’m about to get myself in a family way any time soon, and oddly enough the diary of a teenage boy doesn’t go into the repercussions of Animagus pregnancy.”

“It’s not recommended,” Danny replied flatly.

“Must be driving you nuts being cooped up indoors and not even getting to change.”

Danny’s eyes fell sharply on Carmilla, before she seemed to remember herself and dropped the daggers from her gaze. She stopped in place on the side of the road, and Carmilla stopped with her, not hurt by the sharp gaze, but curious.

“Two and a half years ago,” Danny said in a quiet but steady voice, “I had a miscarriage. They don’t know why, but Animagi witches sometimes just... do.”

Carmilla breathed out. “Oh.”

Danny crossed the road, not waiting for Carmilla to follow. Once Carmilla had fallen into step with her again she continued, “No one in my family’s ever had one before. I’m the first.”

“Lawrence—”

Danny turned to Carmilla. “Maybe this is bad timing, and maybe I’ll lose the agency, but that doesn’t matter. Not now.”

Carmilla hesitated, caught in the intensity in Danny’s eyes. She started to reach for her, but before she made contact Danny rolled her eyes and turned out of her reach to continue on to the caterer’s shop.

\---

It was the first official training session of the season for Puddlemere United and Kirsch had coaxed Perry into coming along so that they could watch John train with the team. John had been surprisingly mute about the whole thing; he seemed to have been avoiding Kirsch lately, although Kirsch just chalked it up to nervousness on the Lawrence brother’s part. Still, quietly watching him from the sidelines at his training couldn’t be counted as bad, right?

“How are things with the education reform?” Kirsch asked over his cup of hot chocolate. It had been a few weeks since they’d been able to catch up; they’d both been wrapped up in their own work with the professional Quidditch season kicking off and the education reform deadline coming up.

“It feels like nothing’s changed in the past six months,” Perry sighed. “It’s just a constant back and forth, as if we’re running on the spot.”

Kirsch’s eyebrows knotted together as he glanced at Perry. “You ok, Perr?”

“I’m fine.” She traced over her eyebrow with a gloved finger. “Just thought things might be different this year. We’re meant to have something to show for this, but so far all we have is a whole lot of correspondence that says nothing.”

Kirsch grimaced, quickly considering what he could say. It occurred to him and he bumped his shoulder against Perry’s. “Hey, at least you got LaF’s textbook into the syllabus.”

“That’s true,” she agreed. “Unless someone suddenly decides they have something against it.”

“Chin up, Perr.” He motioned to the Quidditch players in front of them that were lined up on their brooms. “John didn’t give up on Quidditch and look where he is now. Starting for Puddlemere.” He beamed. “You should see how proud Thatch—” He stopped suddenly, peering up at the sky. Perry followed his gaze and saw that John was now doing what Kirsch had dubbed the ‘Kirsch move’, a move that none of them had quite figured out how to pull off without losing control of the broom. “Huh.”

“Maybe Sasha coached him for the tryouts?” Perry guessed. Sasha was the only other person who could do the move; Kirsch had taught it to her tirelessly, claiming that it was her birthright.

“Maybe,” Kirsch echoed, but he didn’t stop watching John as he flawlessly circled around the goalpost and fell back into line with the rest of the team. “Yeah, maybe.” He snapped out of it and returned his attention to Perry. “Sorry, I... What were we talking about?”

Perry just looped her arm around Kirsch’s and shuffled closer so that they were sharing body warmth. “How is Danny?”

“Beautiful,” he replied with a soft expression on his face. “And huge. But like not in a bad way, just that sometimes I end up getting pushed off the bed. Also, the snoring, dude. Holy Quaffles, the snoring.”

“Holy Quaffles?”

He grimaced. “Trying to stop swearing before the little one comes.”

Perry smiled and felt a stab of that combination between happiness and envy, although the happiness far won out. She wondered what LaFontaine was doing right now, but before she could put much thought into that Kirsch was nudging her and pointing up at where John had managed to evade the flock of six Bludgers to reach the end of the field successfully.

\---

LaFontaine stared at Laura, completely silent for so long that Laura looked down at her dress and then back up at LaF unsurely. “Is it— is it okay?”

Laura was wearing the dress that her mother had gotten married in, altered to fit. The dress was made from lace with loose sleeves that trailed down her arms, while the neckline was shallow but open along the top of her shoulders. The waist was cinched, but the rest of the dress flowed around Laura, making her look ethereal and gorgeous.

“Did you enchant the dress?” LaF asked.

Laura frowned. “Why would I enchant the dress?”

“Because it looks magical,” they finished.

“Oh my God,” Laura groaned, covering her mouth and laughing despite herself.

LaF grinned at her. “Seriously, Hollis. You look amazing.”

Laura blushed under LaFontaine’s words and ran her hands over the dress carefully. It hadn’t gotten any use after her parents wedding, but her dad had kept it in case she wanted to wear it for her own wedding, and she was grateful that he had. She didn’t know much about her mother, but being able to wear the same dress on her wedding made her feel closer to her, even if it was in a seemingly small way.

“It’s a beautiful dress.”

Laura nodded, feeling tears gather in her eyes but not wanting to reveal them as she swallowed hard and turned away from LaF, her hands still running over the lace. “Yeah, one of the only pictures of my Mom is her in this dress.”

“I’m sorry, Laur,” LaF said quietly and Laura shook herself out of the moment of sadness, turning back to them.

“No, no. It’s fine, I’m just...” she trailed off, knowing that LaFontaine didn’t need an explanation. Laura bowed under the feeling of foolishness at who she was crying in front of about this and took a seat across the corner from them. “How are you doing?”

It didn’t take much for LaFontaine to glean Laura’s meaning, given the topic of their previous conversation. They could almost feel the dragons on their shoulders shift at the indirect reference to them.

“I’m good. I’m... better.” LaFontaine matched Laura’s gaze and hoped that she wasn’t practicing her Legilimency skills right now because while they _were_ better, there was also the matter of Sasha and her Secret Quidditch Career that they’d rather not spill the beans on.

Laura put a hand on LaF’s. “I’m glad.” For a moment LaF felt bad for keeping something from Laura. Then Laura gave her a wicked look and asked, “How’s Perry?”

“Perry’s...” LaF coughed and cleared their throat. “Uh, fine. I don’t... She’s fine.”

Okay, so they had been spending more time with Perry, and everyone knew, and they’d been watching them like hawks whenever they were around each other, but that didn’t mean that anything was going on. They were just friends. Friends who spent almost every night at each other’s houses and cooked for each other and knew all about the other’s day and cuddled because it was easier for both of them to fall asleep like that and various other totally normal friend things.

Laura didn’t look like she believed her.

The sound of arguing came into focus outside, Carmilla and Danny bickering as they apparated outside the house, and LaFontaine had never felt more relieved at the two interrupting as they did right then.

“...well obviously if they were the same age,” Carmilla exclaimed in frustration as she opened the front door.

“There’s no way you could measure that.”

“Don’t be such a tight—”

They walked into the kitchen and were stopped by the sight of Laura in her wedding dress.

“Oh, Laura. I thought you were at your dad’s to try on the dress,” Danny started.

“I messaged, didn’t you—?” LaFontaine replied at the same time.

“My dad had to leave and it was just easier if I came back here and—”

In the midst of the three of them talking over each other, Carmilla was the only one who didn’t speak, she just stared at Laura, who had stood but not moved from her spot. Danny and LaFontaine caught onto Carmilla’s silence and quickly left them alone in the kitchen.

Laura shrugged a smile. “Hey.”

“Hey,” Carmilla replied.

“What do you think?” Laura asked weakly. “I mean, my hair will be different, and I’ll be wearing make-up. Not a lot just, you know, subtle, but nice? I know the lace is a little...”

Carmilla stepped towards Laura, silencing her. “It’s perfect,” she said. “It’s perfect and you’re perfect.” And she had never meant anything more than she did in that moment.

“Are you sure?”

“Trust me.” Carmilla took her hands and squeezed them, putting as much gentle meaning into her words as possible. “You look beautiful in white.”

Suddenly it was like there was no oxygen in the room, for a moment everything was completely still as if the world had been paused. And then it fractured. It was like being yanked backwards lungs first. Laura’s hands slipped through her grasp and she tried to reach for them, tried to reach for _her_ , but there was only... Nothing. It wasn’t even black; it was like a world devoid of everything—colour, air, sound, life.

And then it stopped and she was on her feet again. A punch of nausea hit her in the gut and she doubled over, emptying her stomach onto the dirt and leaves. As the coloured dots began to fade from her vision she realised she was in a forest that looked the exact same as where the house had been built; the clearing in the Dean forest with the rock that she had often retreated to as a teenager. There was something darker about it though, more twisted and colder. Even the sky was a darker grey than she was accustomed to seeing.

She was alone. No Laura in front of her wearing a wedding dress, no LaFontaine and Danny in the next room, no cake boxes, nothing. Instead all she had was the distinct feeling that something was very wrong. It felt like something dark had crawled into her gut, twisting and squirming out of the grasp of her understanding.

Her wand was still in her pocket, thankfully. She held onto it tightly, and it almost helped her feel better.

Something moved to her left and she pulled it out, ready to cast a defensive spell when something shot towards her from the right and hit her wrist with a piercing zap. Something else flew out of the forest to her left and she threw herself forward onto the ground to dodge it. On the ground, she got a closer look at what was around her right wrist - it was a metal clasp, like a weird bracelet, that seemed to hum against her skin. And she’d lost feeling in her hand.

She scrambled to her feet and started to run—if this _was_ the Dean forest then she knew exactly how to lose them. She dodged through the trees, jumping off rocks so that the shots didn’t find their mark, embedding in the bark of the trees or whooshing past her instead. She could hear the people chasing her, but she didn’t dare look back in case she lost her pace. It sounded like three maybe, two if she was lucky.

Pain had started to shoot up her right arm, all the way to her shoulder and crackling towards her spine, but she ignored it. She tried to feel if she could change into her Animagus form, but the shocks made her arm feel like it was separate from her, which meant that it was off the table.

She just had to make it to the bluff; it was only a few more kilometres. She just had to—

She was suddenly on the ground, as if she’d run full pelt into a wall, even though there was nothing there. Her head ached with being slammed against the ground, although she couldn’t remember hitting it. It felt like her brain had bounced off her skull at least three times, and everything spun around her. Spinning, spinning, spinning-

She was being dragged. Leaves. Dirt. Talking. — _tagged her, coming—_

She was sitting on something. It moved under her, rattling over things. — _you think she’s from—_

Light. Dark. Light. Dark. Light. Dark.

Carmilla snapped awake, feeling like she had just surfaced from a pool of fractured memories and nausea, and so did the immense pain at the back of her head. She tried to lift her hand to massage the pain away, but her arm was stuck. She tried again and realised that her wrists had been strapped to the chair arms with leather cuffs. Her head throbbed harder with the knowledge that she couldn’t move even if she tried. The metal link was gone from her wrist; the only thing that remained was two tiny red pinpricks that she had to squint to see.

Thin shards of light broke through the boarded up window to her left, poking between the wooden planks. The room was made entirely from stone and the ceiling was taller than the room was wide. Opposite the window was a heavy wooden door with ‘CK’ was carved into the bottom corner of it, hacked into the wood shallowly but full of hatred. It stirred at something that felt like one of her memories, and she tugged at the thread carefully until she slowly remembered carving it in the summer holidays between her first and second year at Hogwarts.

So she was in her bedroom closet in the Dean castle. That was something at least, although it brought up more questions than it answered.

“Carmilla...”

She turned her head, but she was still alone in the room. She listened carefully, trying to figure out where it had come from, but the harder she listened the more deafening the silence was. The voice was so familiar, but she couldn’t be sure...

The door burst open and she recoiled into herself, automatically assuming a defensive position, as a looming figure came in and went over to the shadow soaked corner of the room, clicking something on so that the room was bathed in the artificial light of a lamp. Carmilla blinked in the new light, trying to adjust to it. When she finally did she looked up at the person who had turned it on and stared.

He stared right back at her, although his expression was harder than hers. He had an inch-thick scar with jagged edges that cut down his left eye, which was now a blank milky white, to the edge of his mouth where it puckered the skin of his lips. When he spoke his voice was heavy—thick and rasped with the things he’d seen, things that Carmilla couldn’t imagine.

“Carmilla.”

Her name sounded foreign on his tongue, and she couldn’t remember if he’d ever used her first name before.

“Kirsch.”

They continued to stare at each other across the cold room filled with the light cast by an electric lamp that shouldn’t work.

Carmilla was the first to speak. “What the fuck is going on?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you want to get any extras about this story then follow me on tumblr at [churchofyourcurves](churchofyourcurves.tumblr.com) or check out the tag #carmilla hp au
> 
> I also have some behind the scenes shorts of stuff that I didn't put into the main story for whatever reason, as well as prompts that people have sent me. Check them out [here](http://churchofyourcurves.tumblr.com/tagged/carmilla-hp-au-bts) or take a look at the tag #carmilla hp au bts


	10. The Resistance

Carmilla rubbed at the raw skin on her wrists as she followed Kirsch through the hallways of the house that she had never wanted to return to. It helped that the house was so different from the last time she’d been in it. Now it was full of non-magical technology including lights, security systems, and a weirdly generous range of cooking appliances.

The house was also full of people, which was a new experience for Carmilla. Most of them looked worse for wear as they walked around quickly and discussed things in hushed tones. As she passed they would fall silent, watching her suspiciously until she was out of earshot and they could return to their conversations.

They entered the dining room, which had been turned into a busy hub with the long Dean family dining table covered in monitors and miscellaneous technology, most of which Carmilla didn’t recognise, having fallen out of touch with the modern technologies over the past eight years. Down the far end, a young girl with a roughly shaven head sat cross legged on the mahogany table top, hunched over a laptop and chewing gum determinedly. Carmilla couldn’t help but smirk at the sight of her scuffed up boots on the treasured family heirloom. A huge corkboard leant against the fireplace, a map pinned to it and different areas colour-coded with markers and peppered with pushpins.

“Kirsch,” Carmilla started, but was interrupted when someone came up to greet Kirsch with a stiff nod and started talking about a quadrant or something that sounded super dry and military. She squinted up at the person who had interrupted, his face was lined and dark circles dug hollows under his eyes, but the ragged green beanie and red eyebrows were a dead giveaway.

“John?”

The man, or boy really, froze and his shoulders stiffened. Instead of anyone explaining why the tension had shot up fifty degrees, Kirsch just quietly said, “Thanks, Tim. I’ll see you in the meeting.”

Tim, the Lawrence twin who wasn’t known for wearing a Slytherin beanie, nodded and left, not looking at Carmilla once as he passed her.

“I thought with the beanie...”

Kirsch turned to Carmilla, letting out a small sigh as he did. “John died a few months ago.” He frowned. “How do you even know John, you never met him before you—” He stopped himself and glanced around the room. Then he gestured for Carmilla to follow him and they cut through the kitchen, which had a weird amount of sandwich presses, and through the servant’s door to stand in the narrow passage—the first place that wasn’t full of people.

“How did you come back from Nowhere?”

“What are you talking about?”

“Seventh year. We were escaping Azkaban and you and your step mother went to Nowhere. How did you get back?”

She blinked at him. “You got me back from Nowhere.”

His eyebrow rose and for a moment he didn’t look ten years older than he was. “Pretty sure I would’ve remembered that.”

“Wait, so you think that I never came back?”

The eyebrow was gone as he straightened up and said in an unimpressed voice, “I don’t ‘think’, I know.”

“Okay, whatever.” Carmilla waved him off. “You ‘know’. What happened after that? Did Perry get the Time-Turner sand?”

“How do you know about that?”

“I’ll explain later, you now.”

He appraised her. “Fine. But I’m going to need alcohol.”

He left her alone in the servant’s passage and she had to remind herself to breathe. Everything had happened so quickly that she felt like the only reason she was still upright was inertia, but if that was true then she had to keep riding it until she figured this all out.

Kirsch returned with a bottle of Firewhiskey and two stools, kicking one over to Carmilla and sitting on his own. He removed the black glove from his right hand and, instead of the enchanted arm with the magical tattoo, the prosthetic was obviously man made. It had shining pearl panels, shaped similarly to arm muscles, and in the space between them the metal joints and pistons of the prosthetic were visible. There were black sections of rubber on the palm and fingertips and he used this to grip onto the bottle as he opened it. When he passed the bottle to his other hand the prosthetic limb moved awkwardly, far too stiff to look natural. Carmilla had to stop herself from looking at it. She wasn’t used to this side of Kirsch; she was used to his disability being an advantage, not a hindrance.

Kirsch put the glove back on and it was clear that he was pulling it onto an object rather than his hand. He didn’t wiggle the fingers or flex his palm; the prosthetic remained dead still as he tugged the glove tight.

“That’s new,” Carmilla said, meaning the arm, but then Kirsch took a long swig of the Firewhiskey, and that was new too.

Kirsch held the bottle out to her. “I lost my arm in Azkaban.”

“No, I know, I mean the non-magical thing.”

“You know about the magical arm?” he asked, but seemed to remember Carmilla’s earlier words because he chose to explain his side instead of waiting for hers. “Can’t use it in here. We’re strictly off the grid with magic so that they can’t find us.”

“They?”

“Alright,” he said, “I don’t know what you do and don’t know, so... I don’t know, whatever.” He accepted the bottle back from Carmilla and took down two mouthfuls of the whiskey before starting. “We got arrested after we escaped Azkaban, then Laura and Head Auror Pullen”— _Minister_ Pullen, Carmilla thought, but supposed that was just another thing that had changed—“had us released. We kept trying to get to Nowhere to get you back, but we couldn't...” He shook his head, spinning the cap seal with his thumb. “Perry stole the sand from the Ministry and someone tipped them off, so they stormed the Shack.”

Carmilla’s mouth went dry and when Kirsch offered her the Firewhiskey she shook her head.

“I got out with LaFontaine, but the rest of them were arrested. Danny escaped later on, but...” He took another drink of the whiskey, his expression pulling into a sour grimace. It deepened the scar on his face, and Carmilla couldn’t help but notice how much it looked like an animal attack. “Gensor’s the Minister now. And Azkaban’s full of people who don’t deserve to be there. The Ministry uses the Wand Registry to track everything magic users do, and Gensor brought in all these laws that just... So, we made a resistance.”

“Who’s we?” Carmilla asked, hopeful but not daring to let herself feel it fully.

“Me.”

The word floated between them, so small but so drenched in meaning that it filled the entire passageway with grief. At first it was thick and drowning, snuffing out the small blink of hope Carmilla had, but it eventually ebbed enough for her to ask, “Where’s everyone else?”

“LaFontaine’s living in the non-magical world. Perry’s in Azkaban. Danny’s... missing.”

The last name stretched between them like a gaping canyon, until Carmilla couldn’t hold back anymore.

“Laura?”

He finally met her eyes. “She never woke up. Last I heard, she was in Azkaban.”

There was so much in those two sentences that Carmilla couldn’t deal with, so instead she thought about them in the abstract. So, Laura had never woken up. Laura had never woken up and she was in Azkaban. Laura. Comatose. In Azkaban.

Something occurred to her and she asked, “Why wouldn’t they put her in St Mungo’s?”

Kirsch seemed to be caught off guard by her question, which she couldn’t blame him for because she was also surprised by the fact that her voice had been completely steady while asking it. He recovered quickly though. “Things are different now.”

“No kidding,” Carmilla muttered as she tried to fend off the migraine that was starting to come back with a vengeance.

“You’re doing well.”

“Oh, yeah.” Carmilla pinched the bridge of her nose between her fingers. “I’m doing brilliantly.” She realised that Kirsch was watching her carefully, and she suddenly became sick of seeing him look so goddamn old and careful and _quiet_. “Look, can you just call me dude or bro or say something that doesn’t sound like it came out of a hardened authority figure with zero fun in his veins?”

For a moment he just stared at her, the blank wall of his stare not shifting, then it gave - just a little - and he handed her back the bottle with a quiet, “Alright, bro.”

“ _Thank_ you,” she said pointedly, and the ghost of a smile crossed his face.

“It’s been a long time,” he said, carrying the weight of those years in his words. “I’m glad you’re back.”

Carmilla exhaled noisily and put the bottle on the ground so she could pull him into an awkward hug that only connected them at the shoulders. She patted him on the back a few times before letting go and sitting back in her stool. He smiled and it looked awkward, as if he hadn’t smiled in a long time, but eventually it relaxed into something more natural.

\---

Carmilla leaned against the back wall as she watched the meeting. A lot of what Kirsch said went over Carmilla’s head—updates and briefings and debriefings on recon missions and intelligence—so instead she just watched the people around the room. Kirsch appeared to be leading a band of kids who were barely in their 20s, pimply teenagers, and a scattering of people who were around her and Kirsch’s age. She didn’t want to think about why there were so many children acting like they were ready to be soldiers, and at the same time she couldn’t help but think about how they had been kids when they had first done something like this.

The meeting ended and she stayed at the back of the room as everyone dispersed, a few of them going up to Kirsch. Kirsch’s face kept the mask of solemnity that she’d barely seen him take off, and the kids looked up at him with the respect and trust that he used to command on the Quidditch pitch, but this was different. That had been a young look, eager and excited, this was... desperate.

She pushed off from the wall and left the hall silently, not looking back at Kirsch and the world that had changed so much.

\---

Kirsch waited for the microwave, counting down the seconds with the display as he watched the heating pad rotate on the glass dish. It had been a long day and his arm was paying him back for it. The microwave dinged and he retrieved the heating pad, placing it to the ache of his arm as he collapsed into the chair behind his desk with a sigh. It wasn’t much, but it was some relief and some was better than none.

His room had once been the main bedroom of the house but had now been changed into an office with a bed pushed against the wall. Whenever they got new recruits he’d let them stay in his room while they figured out where to put them, but luckily the Dean castle was massive so they hadn’t had any issues with rooming yet.

He had meant to tell Carmilla that she’d be staying with him if she wanted, but he hadn’t seen her since the meeting. He hoped she was alright. He didn’t know what to make of her reappearing; he wondered if she knew something that they could use to get the upper hand against the Ministry, but then he scolded himself for thinking like that about his friend’s return.

The heating pack started to burn his skin, so he shifted it.

It had been a long day.

Hours later, he jerked awake to the door creaking open and realised that he’d fallen asleep in his chair with the battery-powered stereo on. Carmilla peered through the gap between the doorway and the door, hesitant but there, really _there_. He stood, even though his legs were still buzzing with sleep, and shuffled over to open the door more fully for her.

She didn’t move for a moment, and he could see the dampness of the night still soaked into her hair. For a moment he panicked that she’d forgotten the ‘no magic’ rule and had transformed into her Animagus form, but then—

“I didn’t change.”

“Thanks,” he said, although he wasn’t sure if it was the right thing to say.

Carmilla didn’t comment, just moved past him to enter the room. He peered into the darkened hallway behind her. The electricity had been turned off, which meant it was past midnight, and the hallway was dotted with low burning oil lamps.

She took a seat in one of the scuffed up chairs in front of his desk. The fabric upholstery was moth-eaten, the cushioning underneath poking through the threads. Carmilla picked at the loose threads as Kirsch moved around to sit on the desk—it didn’t feel right to sit behind it, that would be too formal.

Carmilla nodded at the stereo. “Etta James.”

“You a fan?”

“Are you?” Carmilla retorted back with a challenge in her eyes.

Kirsch smiled to himself. It was good to have her back like he’d remembered her. Everything had changed so much that seeing her like this made him feel younger, lighter, as if the past years were being lifted from his shoulders. Even if it didn’t last, it was nice for a moment.

“I need to tell you something,” Carmilla said, all in one go as if she’d been turning it over in her mind for a long time.

He nodded and waited for her to continue. He’d been waiting all day for an explanation; he could wait a few more minutes.

“This isn’t how things are meant to be.”

Kirsch was about to say that he knew that, and that was why they had the resistance, but she glared at him.

“I need you to not speak, just listen.”

He nodded and leaned back, gesturing for her to continue.

“I think someone changed the timeline.”

His eyebrows rose, but he remained silent.

Carmilla continued, “In my time, Laura wakes up, you get me from Nowhere, my step mother takes my place, and no one gets arrested. And all of this Resistance stuff... We don’t need it.” She shrugged. “I mean, it’s not perfect, but it’s not all this dystopian crap.”

His first thought was: _maybe_ —but it was soon cut off with a sureness that she must have created an alternate reality in Nowhere, a fantasy world to escape from the truth, because he couldn’t stand the idea that he wasn’t meant to be living this, that he hadn’t meant to be living this for the past seven years.

“No.”

She looked at him with a muted pity and he couldn’t stand it. He didn’t deserve her pity. She wasn’t right, there was no way she could be right. His scar felt like it was burning.

“How do you think I knew about your arm?” Carmilla asked. “I taught you how to transfigure a tattoo on it.” Her eyes met his fiercely, although she spoke quietly, treating the words with gentle reverence as she said, “It’s not your arm.”

The place where his right arm had once been ached fiercely for the first time in years. He wanted to cross his arms but he couldn’t, so he turned away from her and walked over to the stereo, flicking it off firmly. After the sorrow of the blues, the silence felt harsh and loud, but he didn’t want to turn the stereo back on just after turning it off.

“I know this is a lot.”

He almost wanted to laugh at that, but he knew that if he tried to right now it would just come out twisted and bitter. He’d spent so long feeling that way.

Without turning he asked in a strained voice, “Danny?”

“She’s fine. You live together in a hipster loft and she’s...”

A cold feeling ran down his spine and he turned, unable to keep himself from looking at Carmilla because he felt like the next thing that came out of her mouth would be—

“She’s really happy.”

Everything shifted.

“I can—”

“I believe you.”

Carmilla didn’t look like she believed him. He wasn’t sure if he believed himself, but it didn’t matter anymore.

“Anything you need is yours,” he promised, and there was so much more to it than that simple promise. Carmilla seemed to understand as she nodded silently.

“Take the bed.” He started towards the door. “I’m on the night watch.”

He left the room before she could protest, but why would she? She didn’t know he was lying about being on night watch. He needed the space to clear his mind and was sure that the current guard would appreciate being relieved of their post. Besides, he’d slept enough tonight.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The song Kirsch is listening to, for those keeping track, is "All I Can Do Was Cry" by Etta James.
> 
> If you want to get any extras about this story then follow me on tumblr at [churchofyourcurves](churchofyourcurves.tumblr.com) or check out the tag #carmilla hp au
> 
> I also have some behind the scenes shorts of stuff that I didn't put into the main story for whatever reason, as well as prompts that people have sent me. Check them out [here](http://churchofyourcurves.tumblr.com/tagged/carmilla-hp-au-bts) or take a look at the tag #carmilla hp au bts


	11. The School

Carmilla was dreaming. She knew she was dreaming because she was standing in the courtyard of Hogwarts, a place she had sworn to never return to after she quit her job as the Astronomy teacher.

It felt like fall; it had the same smell in the air that it always did, but it was far more silent than she was used to. In fact, there was no sound at all. Usually there were the sounds of other people, or the owls from the Owlery, or even the wind, but now that was all absent. Above her, the tree’s branches stayed still. She’d never seen it so still outside of winter mornings when the grounds were covered in snow. The leaves were all an identical shade of auburn, as if they had been painted with the same brush.

“Carmilla.”

It felt like the same voice, the same tug on the back of her mind, that she’d felt before. This time it was stronger, less like a whisper and more like someone speaking right behind her, but when she turned there was nothing there. Like trying to grab at smoke, the sensation that someone was behind her dissolved into the air.

She started to walk through the castle. Still, she found no one. In the past this would have been comforting. She used to spend her Christmas breaks hungry for empty hallways and solitude, but now it just made her uncomfortable. A thick layer of dust covered everything, and the painting frames were all empty, although there was no sign of struggle or vandalism. It was like everyone had just packed up and left.

She reached the library hallway, although she didn’t remember walking there, and saw a person standing in the doorway. Carmilla instantly recognised the honey colour of their hair, and the way it fell smoothly down their back. It was longer than it had been in years, but as the person walked into the library Carmilla was sure of who it was.

“Laura,” Carmilla whispered. She started to run towards the library, her steps echoing around her as she did. The echoes seemed to press down on her, making each step harder and heavier. “Laura!”

When she reached the library door it slammed in her face and bricks slid across the doorway, forming a solid wall where there had been a door. She thumped her palm on the bricks, but they didn’t shift, as if they had been there all along and she had just imagined the doorway, imagined Laura.

She turned on the spot, leaning against the new wall and cursing loudly.

“Carmilla.”

She looked up.

“You.”

Her step mother, Lilita Morgana Dean, the keeper of Nowhere was standing in front of her. She hadn’t aged at all, of course, but she seemed softer than the last time they’d met even though she was still wearing a business shirt and pants. The Resurrection Stone hung just below her collarbone as the pendant on a necklace, and it seemed to wink at Carmilla.

Lilita didn’t say anything; she just raised her arm to point. At first Carmilla thought she was pointing at her, but then she realised she was pointing at the library behind her. Lilita opened her mouth to speak—

Carmilla woke up.

She was covered in sweat. Her clothes and hair stuck to her damp skin and her chest heaved with great effort. Her dream had felt like drowning and now she was trying desperately to suck in deep breaths to recover from it as she orientated herself. The room around her was unfamiliar but unsettlingly familiar at the same time, and then she remembered.

The Dean castle. The bedroom her step mother kept locked and banned anyone from entering. Kirsch. And, with a pang, Laura.

Not wanting to wallow in that, she threw back the covers, intending to go and find Kirsch, but when she swung her legs over the side she almost stepped on him asleep on the floor next to the bed. He woke with a startled snort, his hair sticking out at odd angles and eyes darting around wildly.

“What’s happening? What’s—?” He squinted up at Carmilla. “Are you okay?”

“Fine.” Her eyebrow rose as his eyes continued to search the room. “Are _you_ okay?”

“Yeah,” he replied absently before blinking and focusing back on Carmilla. “Sorry, weird dream.”

“Something must be going around,” Carmilla muttered to herself.

Kirsch sat up properly and rubbed his eyes before checking his watch. “Did you just wake up?”

“How long have I been asleep?”

“Twelve hours.”

Twelve hours. The seemed impossibly long for how long the dream felt. Then she remembered her dream, not all of it but little details: Hogwarts, the back of Laura’s head, her step mother...

“I have to go to Hogwarts.”

“Hogwarts?” he repeated. “Why? There’s no one there anymore.”

Carmilla wasn’t thrown by the information, if anything it just confirmed that she needed to go, but she wasn’t sure there were any words she could use without coming across as having lost her grip on reality. So, instead she said, “There’s something I have to check. Can you get me there?”

“Yeah,” he replied, stifling a yawn, “I have something you can use.”

He took her down to a shed that had definitely not been there when Carmilla was a teenager. It housed a variety of different sized things covered in canvas and Kirsch pulled off one of the sheets to reveal a huge black beast of a motorcycle.

“You want me to ride a bike to Hogwarts?”

Kirsch dropped the canvas and brushed his hands off. “It’s magical.” He rounded the bike and started to wheel it out of the shed. “Not enough to get detected by the Ministry, but enough to get you there.” He paused. “Maybe don’t ride it for longer than an hour though.”

She examined the complex dials on the bike, half-wanting to reach out and touch it but still not comfortable enough to do it. “How’d you get this?”

“Donation to the cause.”

Before she could react to that, he took out something that looked like a cross between a phone and a radio that he’d grabbed on the way down to the shed. It was a bulky thing with a ridged plastic exterior that could probably survive a hundred foot drop if it had to. The front had physical buttons and a small strip of a screen. Kirsch explained that it was a radio that could also send messages and make calls, although the radio functions didn’t experience as much magical interference.

“Uh, thanks.” She accepted the radio and tapped it against her palm. “Will it work at Hogwarts?”

His expression shifted and he gave her a sad smile. “Yeah. There’s no magic left there anymore.”

Later on, as she dipped out of the clouds above Hogwarts and wiped the condensation off her goggles, she felt a chill that had nothing to do with the weather. The castle didn’t just look empty, it felt completely empty too. Even when she’d spend her Christmases holed up in some random section of the castle, it had never _felt_ empty. There was always some sense of the castle itself. Now, there was nothing.

She landed in the courtyard and turned off the motorbike. With the engine quietened the silence from the school covered everything instantly like snowfall. She pocketed the bike’s key and crossed the courtyard. Right now she needed the company of sound, even if it was her own footsteps.

She pulled the goggles off and tucked them into the inside pocket of the riding coat Kirsch had lent her. The coat went down to her ankles, but did its job keeping out the wind while she’d been flying so she couldn’t complain. She’d forgotten how fucking _cold_ things were without magic.

She checked the pockets for her wand before reminding herself that she hadn’t brought it. Kirsch had said it was far safer for her to go without it and she’d had to trust him. Instead, he’d handed her one of the weapons that had been used on her in the Dean forest—a stun gun that fired out remote charges to take people down from a distance. He’d explained how to use it but she had no plans on removing it from the holster any time soon.

She reached the door leading inside and hesitated. She felt like if she opened this door then she’d be closing another. Her hand hovered over the doorknob.

The radio on her belt chirped and she jumped, her heart hammering in her chest. She clipped the radio off her belt and opened up the channel to Kirsch.

“You didn’t answer my messages.”

“I was flying, numb nuts.” She grimaced as soon as the insult was out of her mouth. It felt like kicking him while he was down, but he just chuckled.

“I forgot you’re a slow flier.”

“Wow. I don’t know if I like Dystopian you,” she stated drily as she turned the doorknob and shouldered the door open. She took her first steps into the school that she had once loved as a student, and then hated as a teacher. The air was stale with must. It felt like no one had walked these halls in years, but how was that possible?

Like in her dream, each painting that she passed was vacant—a window into an empty world. She took out the flashlight Kirsch had given her and used the artificial light to cut through the dark of the castle, even though it felt wrong to use a flashlight in the magic school. Disloyal somehow.

“What happened to Hogwarts?”

Her voice bounced off the walls and without anything in the castle to dampen it, it sounded louder and emptier—like someone else’s voice entirely.

“Minister Gensor came down really hard on Hogwarts,” Kirsch explained. Carmilla wondered if he gave her the radio so that he could still be with her while she walked the eerie halls of their school, even if he couldn’t be there physically. “She said that the ex-Headmistress probably had ties in the school and they couldn’t risk it so...”

She walked down the corridor leading to the library. “They closed the school down?”

“No, but they made it horrible to go to. Guards stationed everywhere, searches every few days, a million different rules. They even sent some of the students to Azkaban under the Protection Act.”

“Protection Act?”

“A bunch of laws they wrote for the good of the people.” She could hear his air quotes.

“Good old fascism,” she muttered under her breath as she tried to open the library door but it didn’t budge. She put her boot against it and gave it a firm shove, making it creak painfully as it inched open. She had to squeeze through the gap to get into the library and the stench of mildew hit her right in the back of her throat.

The overcast light from outside streamed through the long windows that lined each aisle of the library, giving enough illumination for Carmilla to see what was left of the library and feel a deep aching loss. Instead of the towering aisles full of books, the shelves were empty or had a book leaning askew against the end of the shelf. It was so different from the last time she’d been in the library that she felt it in a way that she hadn’t let herself feel anything up until now, but which had been building from the moment she’d stepped into the castle.

\---

Laura giggled and scrunched up her nose. “You’re the worst!” she insisted, although she couldn’t stop the smile that was spreading across her face. Carmilla smiled wickedly at her as she winked and was ready to tear off another corner off her manuscript to throw at Laura when Madam Pince appeared from around the corner.

“Hollis, Karnstein. This is a _library_!” She glared at both of them. “I expected better of you.”

“Yeah, Laura,” Carmilla added, shaking her head gravely at Laura, who was caught between protesting and laughing. “I’ll keep her in line, Madam Pince.”

Madam Pince looked less than thrilled, but she gave up and left them alone at the study table in the corner.

“You’re the worst,” Laura said matter-of-factly. “I’m going to go study with people who don’t throw things at me.” She started to gather her things, not daring to look at Carmilla, and Carmilla could spot the glint of what would turn into laughter the second she did.

“I’m sorry, Cupcake,” Carmilla apologised, grasping at Laura across the table. “Don’t go, please.”

Laura finally glanced at Carmilla and her mouth quirked up. “Fine. But you have to help me run through Perry’s flashcards again.”

“You drive a hard bargain, Hollis.”

They shared a smile and Laura leaned in to kiss Carmilla. Carmilla let herself fall into the kiss, into Laura, and just as she was about to deepen the kiss Laura shifted back and held up the flashcards.

“Come on,” Laura urged, ignoring Carmilla’s grumpy face. “The NEWTs start on Monday. We just have a little while longer.”

Carmilla rolled her eyes. “You’re lucky you’re so pretty.” She took the flashcards off Laura and started to go through them with her for the millionth time.

\---

“Are you okay?”

Kirsch’s voice brought Carmilla back to the present and she shook off the feeling of nostalgia that had rooted her to the spot just inside the library doors. “Yeah.”

“Where are you?”

“The library.” She paused, feeling foolish, but then she went on regardless. “Do you know what happened to the books?”

“The Ministry took most of them, but we managed to get a few back.”

She started to walk deeper into the library, through the columns of light and dark cast by the aisles.

“Are you looking for a book?” he asked.

“I don’t know.”

“You—”

“Shh.”

She’d mostly shushed him to not have to explain what had drawn her to the library, but then she stopped in place and listened carefully to the abandoned library. It felt like there was something watching her, although she couldn’t explain it far past a sensation prickling the back of her neck. She slipped the flashlight out of her pocket and used it to carve through the blackness that soaked the half of the library that hid from the windows.

That’s when she saw it. In the corner of one of the aisles there was a bundle of something. As she got closer she saw that it was a pile of ratty blankets and some rubbish, along with a book. She opened the book with the toe of her boot. Half of the pages had been ripped out, which explained the ash smudge on the flagstone floor, if nothing else. She started to pick through the rags, but she couldn’t see anything that gave away who was squatting in the Hogwarts library.

Clearly they weren’t using magic though, since the radio was still working, which meant they were in hiding, although why wasn’t clear.

She was about to leave when she accidentally kicked one of the rags and a small stone rolled out of it. She crouched down to look at it closer. The stone was onyx black and no bigger than a table tennis ball. It was perfectly round, smooth to touch, and felt far heavier than it should be. Turning it over, she saw an engraving of three circles side by side. Each circle had a wavy tail that extended for longer than the circle was wide, but a large crack ran through the point that the lines connected to the circles. She ran a thumb over the fracture. It felt weirdly deep, as if it should have split the whole stone open, but it hadn’t managed to. Just above the crack, next to the three circles, was a miniature engraving of the Ministry ‘M’.

Carmilla’s dream had told her to come here. She hadn’t known for what or why, but the pull had been a visceral one. She had somehow known that there was something she had to find here. She closed her hand around the stone. She was sure that she had just found it.

\---

Kirsch squinted at the stone Carmilla was holding between her thumb and forefinger. “What is it?”

“I don’t know,” she admitted.

He held out his hand and she dropped the stone into it. He turned it over, studying the engraving, before pivoting on his heel to face the rest of the dining room. “Yo, Van!”

The girl with the choppily shaved head and scuffed up boots looked up from her laptop screen with a cocked eyebrow. She was in the same spot as she had been the last time Carmilla had seen her, occupying the table top and seemingly unbothered by all the chairs that surrounded it.

“You busy?”

Van gestured to the laptop emphatically, but Kirsch didn’t seem to notice because he threw the stone towards her in a lazy arc. She panicked, scrambling to catch it so that it didn’t hit any of the technology that surrounded her, and glared at him. Carmilla liked her already.

“Van’s a genius,” Kirsch said to Carmilla. “I have to go prep a mission but I’ll be back later.” He started to walk backwards out of the room and flashed Carmilla a thumbs up. “You’re in great hands!’

Carmilla sighed and walked over to Van, who was giving her a suspicious look that Carmilla was sure she was returning, even if Van had the youthful advantage of blinding hatred.

“You got him in a good mood,” Van observed. She blew a bubble with her chewing gum and popped it with a bite. “Are you two shagging?”

Carmilla gagged instantly. “Oh, Jesus, gross. No.” She glared at the girl who looked unmoved. “You kiss your mother with that mouth?”

“My mum’s dead,” she replied flatly. “So’s my dad. I’m an orphan.”

“Me too, kid.”

Van didn’t respond to that, just looked Carmilla up and down. “How old are you?”

“Twenty-five,” Carmilla fired back. “How old are you?”

“Fourteen.”

“So you’re an actual child.”

Van rolled her eyes so hard that Carmilla wouldn’t have been surprised if she’d sprained a muscle doing it. She muttered something that Carmilla didn’t catch and held the stone out to her. “Hold this.”

Carmilla took it, but when she tried to close her hand around it Van rolled her eyes _again_ —had Carmilla ever been this annoying when she was younger? Probably—and instructed Carmilla to hold it up where she could see it.

Van started to furiously type at the computer, her fingers hammering at the keys as she squinted at the screen. Carmilla was happy to stand there and pretend that she wasn’t waiting for the kid to be done doing whatever it was she was doing, but then the back of Van’s neck caught her eye. Van was only wearing a thin singlet and it left her neck and most of her upper back exposed, showing a deep scar that ran down her spine from the base of her head to the top of her shoulders. It was badly stitched and still looked painful, despite how healed over it was.

“Are you just going to stare at me like a creep?”

Carmilla’s ears burned as she scoffed. “You asked me to hold this thing.”

“That was before I knew what a weirdo you are,” Van replied without taking her eyes off the screen.

Carmilla muttered a few choice swear words.

“Jeez lady,” Van snarked, “don’t you know you’re not meant to swear around kids?”

“Alright, you know what? I’m done.” Carmilla thrust the stone at Van. “Take this. I’m not a coat rack. Hold your own stone.”

As Carmilla stormed off, Van called after her, “Coat racks don’t hold stones, genius.”

Carmilla swore louder.

When Kirsch found her later on she was eating a toasted cheese sandwich, because she had realised that there was nothing else for her to do except for wait for the kid to finish what she was doing. It got to a point that when she’d found that the sandwich grillers hadn’t been cleaned properly she was almost relieved to have something to do. And once she’d started cleaning those, she moved onto the fridge that definitely hadn’t been cleaned in a long time, despite the sticky residue that coated the bottom shelf.

Wizards were gross, and she’d definitely earned the sandwich.

“Hey—”

“That kid is a menace,” Carmilla interrupted.

Kirsch smiled as he leaned on the opposite side of the counter. “She reminds me of you.”

“Take that back,” Carmilla warned.

Kirsch held his hands up in surrender—but not before swiping the other half of her sandwich and stealing a bite from it. Carmilla made a disgruntled noise but let him have it.

“She’s an orphan, huh?” Carmilla asked as she finished off her half.

Kirsch hummed and swallowed his mouthful. “She’s non-magical born. Her parents died in a car crash when she was 5 and the Ministry picked her up from the orphanage when she was 10.”

“I’m guessing it wasn’t to give her a quality magical education.”

Kirsch’s expression darkened and he dropped his half of the sandwich on the plate. “They were experimenting on her. Trying to figure out why she was magical. How people inherit it.” He offered her the plate but she shook her head so he dumped the remnants in the bin and started to wash the plate. Once it was in the drying rack he let out a long breath. “We rescued her when she was twelve. Brought her here.” He turned to Carmilla and she couldn’t bring herself to drop her gaze from his face.

He went on, “She’s amazing with tech. She set up this whole online community with magical people around the world, and she’s trying to do something with charms and computer viruses.” He shrugged. “I don’t get it, and she hates explaining it, but it’s really awesome.”

Kirsch gave a micro-smile, the pride clear on his face.

Carmilla wanted to feel glad that he’d found a surrogate little sister, but instead she got a very odd, very cold feeling in the pit of her stomach.

“Where’s Sasha?”

Kirsch’s smile cracked, but he tried to recover quickly as he cleared his throat. “Uh, she’s safe.”

Carmilla’s attention didn’t shift from him, even as he tried to ease out from under it. “You don’t know where she is, do you?”

Before he could respond, the kitchen door opened and Van peered around the corner. “I know you guys are old, but can you at least try to run on normal people time?”

Kirsch fled the kitchen, leaving Carmilla’s question in his wake, and Carmilla followed him out wondering what Kirsch wasn’t telling her, and if that meant he was keeping more from her.

Van led them back to her section of the table, sitting on it as she tumbled the stone through her hands, running it over the back of her knuckles before spinning it on her palm. “You want the short or long story?”

“You have the long story?” Carmilla asked. She felt a stab of hate for all those long sessions in the library and Shack pouring over books, newspaper and forms.

“Obviously,” Van replied. “Why else would I want to talk to you?”

Carmilla grumbled something under her breath, which the other two ignored.

Van pulled up a page on the laptop, showing a drawn image that matched the stone Carmilla had found but without the fissure through the engravings. “This is a Kawimuk Stone. It’s from the Abenaki tribe in North America. When colonisers attacked the tribe two of these stones were stolen and sent back to England. This one”—she held up the stone—“was taken from the Ministry nine years ago. The other one is in Gringotts. Some disgustingly rich family inherited it from their colonising relative and refused to give it up.”

“What does the stone do?” Kirsch asked.

Van shrugged. “Nothing. It’s just ancient. I mean, we haven’t got the best database on Indigenous North American magic so I reached out to some contacts, but might be a while. Different time zones and all that.”

Kirsch must have sensed that Carmilla was about to say something insulting because he stepped in front of her to thank Van instead. Confronted with Kirsch’s back, Carmilla’s annoyance abated enough that something occurred to her and she craned her neck to peer around Kirsch’s hulking figure.

“Who stole it from the Ministry?”

Van hit a few keys and skimmed the screen. “Lola Perry.”

This time, Carmilla could only stand there in stunned silence.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you want to get any extras about this story then follow me on tumblr at [churchofyourcurves](churchofyourcurves.tumblr.com) or check out the tag #carmilla hp au
> 
> I also have some behind the scenes shorts of stuff that I didn't put into the main story for whatever reason, as well as prompts that people have sent me. Check them out [here](http://churchofyourcurves.tumblr.com/tagged/carmilla-hp-au-bts) or take a look at the tag #carmilla hp au bts


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